Dancing on a Volcano
by ShadowedStar
Summary: In each generation, one girl is chosen to fight the forces of evil. The choice is never wrong. This is Faith's story, from her childhood to 10 years post-season 7 when the other Slayers are dead or dying, and she must lead the final stand against evil.
1. Chapter 1

Standard Disclaimer: I am not Joss Whedon or anyone otherwise involved with Mutant Enemy and its productions. Ergo, I have absolutely no ownership of this whatsoever. I'm doing this for love of the characters, rather than for any sort of personal gain. Any original characters are mine, as is the prose, but the story wouldn't exist without the Buffyverse province of Whedonverseland. Long may Joss reign. :)

Author's Notes: This is a story about Faith. Other characters will pop up, even put in major appearances, but it's her story, following her from her rough childhood through to being Chosen, all the way through her time on the Buffy and Angel TV shows, and then examining some of the repercussions of the events after the series finale as they affect Faith. It's an enormous, ambitious undertaking, and I can't promise I'll be all that great about updating regularly. But I will finish it.

Meanwhile, I'm playing a lot with universe canon in this story. A big problem has been the issue of Dawn. I never liked her, for three reasons:

(1) her dialogue was obviously written to be a 6 or 7 year old, but the actress they hired was a teenager so they revised to make the character 14, which just made her seem ridiculously immature;

(2) she does the stupidest things (that put everyone around her in danger);

(3) her relationship with Buffy and the Scoobies is identical to what my relationship to my sister and her friends was (right down to the age differences), and when I was watching that season, my real-life dynamic was changing in ways I didn't want, so it made me kinda bitter/jealous. (Yay, introspection?)

And because I never liked her, I wanted to delete her. However, that would cause major structural issues. (Season 5, anyone?) I ended up at a compromise based around the fact that (1) is really my biggest problem with her, and the other two are just icing. So, in this version, she's not six years younger than Buffy, she's thirteen years younger than Buffy. Which makes her approximately seven during the events of season 5, and would have her approximately 5 when Faith first arrives in Sunnydale. Since things are being told in retrospect after the monks created memories of Dawn and wove them into everyone's brains, they will act as though they knew each other for season 3. They will, therefore, reference memories that _do not exist_ because Dawn did not exist at the time. So, if you find yourself confused, just bear with me and take it as part of the time-space weirdness. Other than the change of Dawn's age and existence (which won't become a big deal until a ways into the story, but seemed good to address now), this is pretty much going to be canonical through the series run on television. I haven't read the season 8 comics (I hear they're good though?), so I can't keep it canon through those.

You can always ask in a review or PM if something doesn't make sense. Sometimes I'll want things to be obscure for a while. (Note, if you _really _want a response back, a PM is a better route than reviews. I read all reviews, but do not reply to them. I will reply to PMs.)

Obviously, a lot of Faith's past is pretty murky and unclear. She's not only deceptive to others, but self-deceptive and in pain to boot. You can't always take what she says in the show as true, nor can you take what is true as the whole truth. This is mostly just to point out that you can't always trust what she says, especially when there are good reasons for her to lie, but also to cover up any inconsistencies between series canon and claims made in this story. Also, because this is Faith we're talking about, we will be dealing with mature issues such as drinking, drug use, sexual activities, criminal violence of various descriptions (including murder and torture), abuse, etc, in this story. If any of these things bother you, this is most definitely not the story for you. Viewer discretion is advised. To assist you, I'll warn in authorial notes of anything major for each chapter, but there will not really be any bright flashing signs, symbols, or formatting changes to show where any objectionable material may lie.

That being said, I hope you enjoy this!

… … …

"_In English, when you do something crazy and dangerous, they tell you you're playing with fire. In German, they say you're dancing on a volcano. I guess that would make you a professional volcano dancer, Faith."_

"_Volcano dancer?" Faith's voice was dubious. At fourteen years old, she found everything dubious, but especially anything one of her peers told her. And although he was older by enough to not be a peer anymore, that applied especially to Donovan Crane, currently sitting beside her, watching her shoot bolts at the straw targets arranged around the far end of the room._

"_Yeah." There were no traces of mockery or insincerity in his voice or vigorous nod. She decided to take the bait._

"_I like it. It's…" Faith searched for the word as she loaded her crossbow. "Clear. Like I can see it. Who taught you that?"_

"_Please, Faith. My cousin's wife is from Germany."_

"_You still had to learn it!"_

"_Faith, concentrate," the voice of Amelia Crane, Faith's Watcher, chided gently before its owner appeared in the doorway, wearing a pressed linen suit and carrying a longbow. "You're here to learn how to fight the undead, not argue with my nephew. Donovan, don't distract her or I won't let you visit while she's here anymore."_

"_Yes, Aunt."_

"_Fetch your father for me. Tell him to bring the battle axes and sword chest."_

"_Yes, Aunt." Donovan rose from the seat beside Faith. Still lanky and slightly frail with pudgy, babyish features at the age of seventeen, he loped down the hallway with strangely easy grace. Faith watched him out, trying to figure out what he had meant by bringing up playing with fire and dancing on volcanoes. He frequently was mysterious to her, but this felt significant._

"_You're fascinated by my nephew."_

_Faith startled and turned around, expression guilty. Even if she wasn't doing anything wrong, somehow her Watcher always made her feel like she was. It was probably residual from her upbringing, and always being in trouble at home. What was new to her was the desire to fix what she was doing wrong and please her Watcher. "I- No. No, Amelia, you're wrong."_

_Amelia quirked an eyebrow at Faith._

"_I just... He's nice to me."_

_Amelia nodded and walked into the room, laying the bow down beside Faith. "And you've had precious little enough of that. Take care, Faith; to be a Slayer is to be solitary. It's not given to Slayers and Watchers to have the warm comforts of loved ones. Our mission is far too dire."_

"_Do you always have to remind me?" Faith grumbled, shooting her crossbow at the furthest target and scoring a perfect bulls-eye. As the bolt collided, the scene shifted and the target became Amelia, bloodied and battered, begging for death as fire raged around them and the ground trembled. Faith lifted the sword in her arms, prepared to bring it down…_

Faith woke quickly, heart racing, sweaty and clammy all over. There was an hour until dawn, and she was back in her studio flat. Outside, she could hear a woman screaming.

She slept in her clothes these days. It was faster and easier to get out and get back to slaying. She snatched up the crossbow from beside her bed, and leaned out the window, getting an easy sight on the vampires who dared attack on her doorstep. Dusting them quickly and efficiently, she sighed and leaned back against her windowsill.

Sunnydale, Cleveland, Edinburgh, Rome, Ankara, Beijing, Bali, Melbourne… She'd been to all of the Hellmouths, and all the places in between. They looked alike now. Overridden. The undead had taken over, breeding like cockroaches. Even Boston, her home, was swarming with vampires in numbers she had only ever seen in Sunnydale before they had… well. Just before.

Faith put her crossbow down and watched the woman run down the alleyway. She paused once, looking back up in the direction from which the bolts had come. Her eyes locked with Faith's, and a quiet understanding passed between them.

"I'll fix this, lady," Faith promised in a whisper. "Somehow. Because if I don't, then we're all doomed."

Faith got up and went to the shower. Being back in Boston had brought back all the memories she'd tried to hard to repress. Her sisters, parents, friends, and foes were haunting her here, and she needed to escape again. In the morning, she was bound for Sunnydale, back to the place where the end of the world began, in order to try to jump start life again.

The fights were getting harder. She was slipping up, coming as close to losing as it was possible without ending up a vampire herself. Faith turned off the water and reached for a towel. For a Slayer, she was downright old, having just turned thirty-two. Her body wasn't out of shape by any means, but she no longer had the quicksilver reactions of a teenager in peak physical condition. The deadline to turn back what Buffy began had created itself from her blood, forged of her sinews and tendons, her scars and cracking joints, and myriad aches and pains that she ignored and fought through on a continual basis. The vampires and other monsters had just reinforced it by stepping up their activities. She had to fix it before she could die. That was all that it boiled down to. If she failed at that…

A knock came at her door, interrupting her musing. Wrapping the towel carefully around herself, Faith picked up an axe and peered through the peephole. The man with a broadsword on her doorstep looked like Giles, but who knew anymore?

"Yeah?" she asked, pulling the door open an inch – the maximum allowable distance with her chain bolt in place.

"Faith, we need to be on our way."

"Sure thing Giles. Let me just finish getting dressed. I'll be out in a minute." She closed the door without inviting him in. She'd learned her lesson about that when Riley had paid her a visit six years ago. The jagged, livid scar running diagonally across her torso from just under her left breast to her right hip was all the reminder she'd ever need to never invite anyone into her home again. And that was before the vampires became so populous. Her fingers traced absently over the scar as she took off her towel and selected clothes for the trip.

Dressed and ready, she left the apartment, not even bothering to lock it behind her. "Ready, Giles?"

"Ready."

His car was waiting in the alley outside, parked in the dust of the vampires she'd killed with her crossbow.

They drove in silence for the first twenty minutes. Faith watched as the sun rose, its watery light barely filtering through the sooty clouds on the horizon. The vampires may have gone to ground, but she could see demons wandering around openly, and shuddered.

"So what do we gotta do, Giles?" she asked as they got onto the freeway, heading for Sunnydale.

"Make it up as we go along, unfortunately. I've done some research, but most of my books have long since been destroyed or lost."

"Never did learn to use a computer, did you?" Faith rolled her eyes. "Got _any_plan at all?"

"We're going out to the desert, first. When I was B-," he trailed off and cleared his throat. "Vision quests have been useful in the past. It's as good a place to start as any."

Faith nodded. Giles still couldn't say Buffy's name, even four years after her death. They hadn't spoken nearly the entire five before that, but the old man had always held out hope for reconciliation with his first Slayer. "And when's this celestial convergence you were talking about? You know, the one that's supposed to be all good-luckish or whatever?"

"We have three months."

"And how long will it take to get to Sunnydale?"

"About a week, if we don't stop driving except for toilet breaks and refilling the petrol tank. I packed food, so there won't be need to stop for that."

"Petrol tank? You are so British." Giles shrugged a shoulder and silence overtook them. Faith started fooling with the radio station dial. Most stations had gone dead when their staff no longer wanted to be bothered with the risk of leaving their homes for non-essential trips, but some people still operated solo outfits from their basements. And sometimes the vampires and demons used the airwaves as a way to communicate with one another during daylight. Still, she couldn't find anything but static, so she switched the tuner off and sat back.

"I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with W," she muttered under her breath, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the window.

"Wreckage," Giles muttered back. "Please let us not play that intolerable game."

"So what do you want to talk about? I'm wide awake and won't be crashing for a nap any time soon, and you can't be seriously thinking of driving in silence."

"I rather was, actually. I need space to think in order to come up with a plan. But if you're feeling chatty, why don't you pick a subject."

"Oh, please. What do I have to talk about? You've seen everything I have for the past nine years."

"And what about before that, Faith? You didn't just materialize out of the ether."

"You want me to tell you about my childhood and shit? That's so Psych 101."

"If that's all you have to talk about, then yes. It could be useful."

Faith shrugged a shoulder, thinking about it. It wasn't like she had much to lose. The odds that she and Giles would succeed on this mission were slim to none, and they had mostly managed to repair their differences. He was quite the fatherly figure to her now, and a part of her wanted to share her past with him, to have him hear it and understand it and know why she was who she was.

Amelia had always told her that the magic which chose the Slayer picked the one unique girl in all the world who was most qualified for the position. The one with the combination of experiences and skills that would perfectly fill what the world needed most in the next chapter of the fight against evil. Maybe, if she shared, Giles and his crazy smart brain would figure out why it had to be her and how they could improve their odds of success a little more.

"So where should I start?" she asked, shifting uncomfortably.

"Wherever seems most appropriate."

She rolled her eyes. "I dunno…" She closed her eyes again, letting it all replay itself. For the first time, she didn't flinch away, trying to hide from the uglier truths of her existence, and gradually, a narrative thread that she could follow began to appear. She took hold of it, and began to speak.


	2. Chapter 2

See first section for disclaimer and overarching notes.

… … …

"So you want to know what my parents were like and all that shit?"

"If you'd like to start there, then certainly."

"Can't you ever just say yes?" Faith glared at Giles as he chuckled. "Okay, fine. Mom was crazy. Literally. Got diagnosed bipolar as a teenager and self-medicated with alcohol once she couldn't stay on her daddy's health insurance anymore. She was devoutly "pray at meals and before bed everyday" Catholic when she was sober enough to remember it, so she named us after Christian virtues or some bullshit like that." Faith snorted and rolled her eyes. "I don't really remember my dad. Can't even remember his face. Mom always said I looked like him, but I wouldn't know. He was a cop; got shot on his beat night before I turned five. My older sister knew him better, had an extra two years with him around, but she never talked about it. Mom didn't either." Trees whipped past the car window, but Giles said nothing as Faith considered her next words. "After that, she married a guy named Anton O'Rourke, and things kinda went downhill fast. She was always angry."

"_Faith! Hope! Get over here!" Faith flinched as her mother's voice shattered the silence in the small three-room apartment, and dropped the broom and dustpan she was using to try to clean up. They were too big for her little hands, and it wasn't working anyway._

"_Yes, Mommy?" she asked, fidgeting anxiously. Hope was standing behind her, squirming uncomfortably as their mother glowered at the room. Grace tried to crawl towards them, but their mother scooped the toddler up. _

"_You and Hope broke my dishes?" she demanded, gesturing to the glass scattered across the floor at their feet._

"_It was an accident!" Hope protested. "We were washing them and they were sli-"_

"_How many of them did you break?" their mother cut Hope off. _

_The two little girls shrugged. Faith hadn't thought to count. She knew it had been more than one, but couldn't remember how many. Hope hadn't kept count, either._

"_Hold the baby; don't let her crawl into that mess," their mother growled, handing Grace over to Hope and looking in the cupboard and sink. She sighed as she slammed the cupboard shut. "Anton bought me those," she muttered, not intending for the girls to hear. "He's going to throw a fit." She signed as she closed the cabinet, and took the baby back in her arms. "Daddy's not going to be happy about this. I want that mess cleaned up before he gets home, you hear?"_

_Hope nodded and picked up the broom that Faith had dropped, and Faith got the dustpan for her. "He's not my daddy," she grumbled under her breath as Hope haphazardly swept up the shards of porcelain, sending more pieces flying into the air and barraging Faith than she managed to get into the dustpan. Small fragments embedded themselves in the carpet where the living room floor met the kitchen. "My daddy wouldn't care about some stupid plates."_

"_Your father is dead," their mother snapped. "He's been gone for two years, Faith; he's not coming back. Anton's more a daddy to you than Michael will ever be and you should be grateful that he's putting up with you brats!" She left the room stumbling and weaving on her feet, leaving Grace crawling around on the living room floor._

_Faith could feel the tears prickling behind her eyes, burning her throat as she fought to swallow them down. Hope let the broom fall to the ground once more, and hugged her. _

"_I miss him, too," she whispered, and Faith could tell that she was crying._

"_It's okay, Hope," she said, hugging her back and forcing her tears away so she could comfort her sister. "He'll come back. I don't care what Mommy says; he's not dead. He's just hiding from the bad men and he'll come back. He'll take us away with him next time."_

"_Mommy's so mad all the time, and I don't know why," Hope said. "She was never this mad before. Do you remember?"_

_Faith nodded, even though she didn't. She'd been four when her father stopped coming home; now she wasn't quite six yet, but the memories of a time before Grace, before Anton, and before the persistent reek of alcohol in the house were nearly faded away._

"_I just want all of us to be happy again," Hope finished in a mumble. _

"_Me, too," Faith agreed. She opened her mouth to say something else, but shut it abruptly as Grace crawled into the kitchen, and began to wail. _

"_Mommy! Mommy! Grace is crying!" Hope shouted, rubbing her cheeks quickly with the back of her hand to hide the tearstains. _

"_Yes, I can hear her," their mother answered, coming out of the bedroom. "I thought I told you two to watch the baby!" She picked Grace up, and flinched at the sight of bleeding cuts on the baby's hands and knees where she had crawled across broken pieces of porcelain on her way into the kitchen to join her sisters. Grace's cries grew louder, and their mother had to shout to make herself heard. "You two need to listen to me when I tell you things. Just… stay here and finish cleaning this mess up. There's canned soup in the pantry, you can microwave that for yourselves. Tell your daddy I'm at the hospital if he gets home before we do. He shouldn't; but if he does, you tell him. Got it?" She left the apartment with Grace before either girl could answer._

"Was your sister badly hurt?" Giles asked when Faith had fallen silent for a moment, thinking about the sisters she hadn't seen in decades. She hadn't thought about them much, and was surprised to find that it still hurt not to have them anymore. She'd thought she'd moved past all that.

"She had scars the rest of her life, but it wasn't as bad as it could've been. Gracie was pretty tough about pain. She was always trying to keep up with me, not realizing that, y'know, I had superpowers."

"What happened when your stepfather came home?"

"Not a whole lot. See, he ignored us kids, and we ignored him, so things weren't too bad. For us. But when he got angry at Mom, he'd get violent. We'd all hide, trying to pretend like we weren't there. But there were only so many places to hide, and in all of them we could still hear."

_The door slammed open and a couple of men ambled inside just as Faith and Hope finished microwaving their soup. It had taken them a long time to clean up the glass, but it was finally all up and they were hopeful that Anton wouldn't notice anything amiss._

"_Hey, brats! Where's your mother? And the other brat?" Anton bellowed, kicking the door closed behind him before strolling into the kitchen. His steps were wobbly and uncertain, and he smelled of something sour. The other man remained standing by the door. Faith didn't like the look of him; something about the way he was lurking seemed strange._

_Hope nudged Faith in the side. "You tell him," she whispered. "Please?"_

"_Gracie got hurt. Mommy took her to see a doctor. She'll come home soon."_

_Anton grunted. "Did she make dinner?"_

"_No."_

"_What's there to eat?"_

"_She said there was soup in the pantry," Hope piped up, just as the microwave went off with a ding. _

"_Excellent," Anton said, rolling his eyes. He wandered over to the microwave and took the two bowls out. "Here, Kent, have some soup. It's not much, but Irene didn't make anything before leaving."_

_The other man accepted the bowl with a grunt and sat down on the sofa with it. He didn't pick up the spoon. "What about my money?"_

"_You'll get it, you'll get it," Anton said, waving a hand dismissively. "Don't get so impatient. I just have to wait for Irene to get home."_

"_Your wife handles your finances?"_

"_The money she makes waitressing, sure. I've got most of your money, I'm just fifty bucks shy. She'll understand."_

"_She'd better."_

"_No need for threats, Kent; hey look, here she is," Anton said as Irene came in, looking exhausted. She barely had time to put Grace down in the large box that served as a makeshift playpen before he had crossed the room to her side. Faith watched curiously, holding one of the cupboards open so she could scrunch down behind the door and be mostly unseen, while Hope struggled to open the last can of soup. Anton and Faith's mother were talking quietly, but every so often she was able to catch a stray word, until finally Irene burst out, "I said no, Anton!" and crossed the room to where Kent still hadn't touched his soup. _

"_I'm sorry, sir, but you're going to have to leave," she said, folding her arms in front of her chest. "My husband was in error when he promised you money. We don't have any to spare; I have three daughters and one of them needs medical care. Please go."_

"_Irene, don't be rude to the man, he's my friend," Anton said. More muttered exchange followed; Faith couldn't be certain but she was fairly certain she heard him say that her mother would regret her rudeness if she didn't immediately take it back._

"_Fine! You leave with him!" Irene shouted suddenly, and Faith decided to crawl into the cupboard next to the sink pipes. Hope watched her, and slowly put down the can of soup to climb in the other side. They closed the doors to drown out the noise of their mother bursting into tears and shouting, "I'm tired of you gambling away all of our money when we're barely scraping by! It has to stop, Anton. We have children to take care of! They need new shoes, and supplies for school. I can't do it all by myself!"_

"_Then you shouldn't have had them, should you?" Anton snarled back. "Stupid drunk bitch! If you're so worried about getting them things, you give up your vices!"_

"_I'm trying! But it's not enough-" A loud smacking noise interrupted their mother's words._

_The door slammed. It seemed Mr Kent had decided not to stay for the fireworks. Grace began to cry, with all the fury her year and a half old vocal cords could muster._

"_We shouldn't leave Gracie out there," Faith whispered._

"_We shouldn't go out there," Hope answered. "…She won't remember, will she?" _

"_If we can grab her before they see, it won't matter if she does …right?"_

"_Now look what you've done!" Irene's voice shattered whatever illusion the girls had that they could rescue their littlest sister from the chaos this time. Even worse than that, was the defeated tone in their mother's voice. _

"_Listen, you little slut," Anton growled, and they heard a loud thud. Something had hit the wall, hard. "I'm the one in charge here. Those little brats don't get shit – you hear me, shit – until my needs are taken care of."_

"_Gambling isn't a need, you bastard!"_

"_Neither is your drinking!" A round of dull thuds and smacks, punctuating the silence and Grace's sobbing in a horrible cacophony that made the two girls under the sink flinch. _

"_You don't understand, I have an illness-"_

"_Don't talk back to me! Now, my word is law here, you hear? My. Word. Is. Law." A few final blows. Faith covered her ears and shook her head, trying to banish the knowledge of what was going on. Hope was hugging herself, crying and humming a lullaby in a futile attempt to ignore the sound. "Now get up off that floor and shut your brat up. Then make dinner. I want fifty bucks in my pocket tomorrow morning."_

_They couldn't hear Irene's reply. Faith was ashamed to admit to herself that she was relieved about that._

"Why did she marry him?"

"I guess because she was young and scared. She had Hope straight out of high school and never went to college, so when Dad died she got stuck with three kids and no way to support 'em. I always thought she went with the first man who'd have her who seemed like he was able to hold a job, keep a roof over our heads, and not mind that she came with kids. I guess, after she learned what kind of a mistake that was, Mom must have still thought it was worth it not to have to beg her parents for money to get a divorce."

Giles cast a concerned look at her out of the corner of his eye. "What did Anton do for work?" he asked, changing lanes. There was nobody on the freeway. Most people didn't travel nowadays, preferring to stay as close to home as possible. They seemed to think it was safer. A couple of slime-covered, red- and green-skinned demons watched them pass from where they were foraging for roadkill. Faith reached into the backseat for the rifle in case they tried to follow, but they didn't.

"He started out as a cop, one of dad's partners actually. He ended up getting fired on suspicions of criminal behavior, but they couldn't prove anything so no charges were made. Ended up working as a bouncer at a run of sleazy strip clubs in the grungy parts of town. I found out years later that he kept getting fired from places for creeping on the girls, until he found this one joint that was off on the far end of town. All the scum hung out there, so management didn't care what he did as long as he kept 'em from fighting. He stayed there until he got shot. That was about three years or so later."

"Good Lord. Did he survive?"

Faith shrugged, leaning her seat back. "He probably would have, if it hadn't been for that gambling problem of his."

_The clock ticked loudly on the counter as Irene paced back and forth. Her limp was almost gone, and the black eye had faded to an eerie greenish stain on her cheek and brow. Other bruises marred her fair skin, but in the yellowish light it was hard to tell what was bruise and what was atmosphere. _

_The girls sat on the sofa. Grace watched their mother's pacing closely, her eyes tilting back and forth like some awkward mockery of a cat clock. She snuggled a pillow under her chin, leaning her head against Faith's arm. _

"_What's Mommy doing?" she whispered, her voice rasping through the air like sandpaper. She had learned to speak later than most other children her age, but once she figured it out it had been nearly impossible to stop her from asking questions about everything._

"_Shh!" Hope hissed. "Don't say anything, Gracie. We're waiting."  
_

"_Waiting for what?" Grace asked loudly, piercing the blanket of silence that overlaid the room._

"_Shhhh!" Hope clamped her hand over Grace's mouth. When she uncovered it, Grace poked Faith in the ribs._

"_Faith, what's Mommy waiting for?"_

_Faith shrugged, occupied with hunting for her red crayon. Her fourth grade teacher had asked them all to draw what they wanted to be when they grew up, and she was engrossed in drawing herself as a nurse._

"_Somebody tell me!" Grace whined. Irene stopped her pacing and looked at them. Before she could say anything, however, the phone rang._

"_Hello? Yes, yes this is Irene O'Rourke." A long pause after that, and Irene sat down hard on the kitchen floor. "Oh, God. Is he going to be okay? …I see. Yes, I'll be there as soon as possible. …Alright. Thank you."_

"_What was that about, Mom?" Hope asked quietly. "What happened?"_

"_Your daddy got shot."_

"_What does that have to do with what's going on now?" Faith asked, dropping her box of crayons from the surprise of hearing it brought up, her drawing entirely forgotten. Irene looked at her for a moment as though she didn't recognize her, then shook her head._

"_Not Michael. Anton. How many times do I have to tell you, Faith-"_

"_Mommy?" Grace's plaintive question cut off the tirade before it could really begin. "What does that mean? Is he going to come home soon? He's always home by now."_

_Faith ripped up her drawing, feeling angry about this, even though there was no love lost between her and her stepfather. "It means he's dead. Just like our real daddy," she spat. _

_Irene gasped, the words and the bitterness with which they had been uttered catching her off-guard. "He's not dead," she began, but tears choked her voice and she had to take a few minutes to calm herself. "He's not dead. But he's in the hospital. He got shot at the end of his shift, breaking up a fight in the alleyway. The people took off, and it took a while before he was found. He's lost a lot of blood. The doctors are doing what they can. It'll take a while but they're releasing him tonight because we don't have health insurance. I have to go get him."_

_Faith got up and stormed out of the room. Behind her, she could hear Grace begin to cry as well, and Hope trying to comfort her and their mother at the same time. She just couldn't stand to be with the others anymore. She stormed into the bedroom that she shared with her two sisters and slammed the door behind her._

_Faith was angry that their mother had told them. She didn't want to know, and she didn't think it was right that their mother would lay that burden down on all of her children, even if Grace had asked. She was furious that she had lost her own father, that he hadn't come back, and that Anton had been a terrible substitute on even the most basic levels. She was terrified that someone would figure out everything was not alright in their household, and that she'd end up like one of the other kids in her class, being shuffled around between foster parents and separated from her sisters, if that happened._

"_Fix this!" she shouted at the icon of Mary and the infant Jesus on the wall, and at the carved wooden crucifix beside it. "I'm sick of all of this! You're supposed to be able to do anything. Why can't you make sure everyone is loved and taken care of? Why do you make it so dads die? Why can't you keep moms from drinking until they fall down and don't wake up for days? Why don't you stop all of it? You could, you know. Is it really so hard, that you don't bother trying? Or are we just so bad you don't care about us?" _

_Faith was shaking hard from repressed emotion. She could feel the tears she had been holding back for years now burning in her throat as she stood there glaring at the icon and crucifix, clenching and unclenching her fists. _

"_Faith?" her mother's wavering voice interrupted her staring contest with the Virgin. She had been so caught up in her struggle for control and shouting match with the religious symbols, that she hadn't heard the door open._

"_Go away."_

"_Sweetie?"_

"_I said go. Please."_

"_Don't shut me out, Faith. I've messed up, I know, but I'm trying."_

"_No you're not. If you were…" she sighed, swallowing hard so she wouldn't say words she couldn't take back. "Please go?"_

"_Oh, baby," Irene walked into the room and pulled Faith into a hug before she could dodge. "Bad things happen. It's how the world goes. But you can't blame them. They're the only thing that's good and pure and true in this world. If bad things happen, it's because we've failed, not because they aren't shouting for us to do the right thing."_

"_They could still fix it," Faith growled, squirming out of her mother's grasp. "They have all that power, and what do they use it for? Making harps for angels to play and fluffy clouds for them to sit on."_

_Irene laughed. "They do more than that, my little skeptic."_

"_Like what?"_

"_They fix lots of things. And they will fix this too, in time. But they can only do it with our help. Here," Irene pulled a rosary of red glass beads from around her neck and held it out to Faith. "This was my grandmother's. You take it. They can only intercede if we ask them to. But yelling won't do it. You have to ask nicely. You have to pray for it with all your heart."_

_Faith took the beaded chain carefully, holding it at arm's length as she examined it with a wary eye. "I don't know how," she finally said, letting her arm drop. She stared at her feet and kicked at the carpet._

_Irene knelt in front of her, and cupped her cheek with one hand. "I'll teach you in the morning. But I'd better go and get your-" she paused at Faith's glare, "-Anton from the hospital. Watch your sisters for me? They don't know how to be strong like you do, and this is a hard thing to go through."_

_Faith nodded. Irene kissed her forehead. "That's my girl. I'll tell Mrs. Fitzpatrick next door what's happening so if you three need anything, you can go to her. Alright?" _

_Faith nodded again. Irene left the room and closed the door, leaving Faith alone. She stood there for a minute, taking deep breaths and trying to calm herself. Then she put the rosary around her neck like her mother had worn it, tucked it away under her T-shirt, and went into the living room with her sisters, just as Irene left. _

"_Are you okay, Faith?" Hope asked. Faith nodded. Grace held up a tape-covered piece of paper. Bits of tape were sticking out over all the edges, and there was random confetti stuck to the undersides of some of it. _

"_We fixed your picture after you left and while you were talking to Mommy!" she proclaimed. "See! Look! It's all three of us all grown up! You're the nurse, I'm the ballerina, and Hope's the lawyer!"_

"_Thanks, Gracie," Faith said, and ruffled the younger girl's hair. "Why don't you put it on our wall?"_

_Grace got up and skittered out of the room with the crayon drawing. Hope looked at Faith and quirked her eyebrows. "You sure?" she asked._

_Faith nodded. "Let's just keep Gracie busy."_

_They paced the next couple of hours taking it in turns to read to their sister from Grimm's Fairy Tales and other storybooks. Finally, when she was falling asleep, Hope took her into the bedroom to tuck her in. She came out, yawning heavily._

"_Are you staying up still?" she asked._

"_Not tired." Faith shrugged. _

"_We can talk…?"_

"_No. It's okay. Go sleep. I'll wait for Mom." _

_Hope frowned slightly, but didn't say anything else before she turned and headed back into their shared bedroom. Faith waited until the light from under the door no longer reflected off the handle of the bathroom door before taking the rosary off and playing with it, running the beads through her fingers and twisting it around her wrist as she thought about everything that had happened that night. A short time later, the door opened slowly, and Irene stumbled in, half-supporting Anton across her shoulders. _

"_Faith, sweetie, can you open the door to our room? I've got my hands a little full."_

_Faith nodded numbly and got up. The door opened before she touched the handle, though, and someone grabbed her. Irene screamed, and Anton swore._

"_Just you hold still, kiddo, and I won't hurt you too badly," the man holding her muttered. "Now then, Anton, old buddy. We got a few scores to settle by my reckoning."_

"_Kent? I heard you got killed," Anton said. He was watching the man, tracking his movements with his eyes._

"_Eh, that was just a ruse. As you can see, I'm still alive. Well, -ish. But still kicking. And I've come to collect a few debts from you."_

"_He's not paying you," Irene said, but since she was cowering against the wall, it didn't quite have the intended effect. Kent laughed. _

"_Just you stay out of this, sweetie, and I won't kill your daughters, too, okay?"_

"_Kill?" Irene gasped._

"_Too?" Anton demanded._

_Kent shrugged the shoulder of the arm that wasn't holding Faith. "I got no gripes with the kids. Kids're tasty, but they're like candy. No real nutrition there. Two healthy adults, though, now that's a meal. Anton, your time's up."_

"_I'll get the money! I promise! Just give me a couple of days!"_

"_Don't you get it? I don't want money. I'm a changed man, now. I want your blood."_

_Kent shoved Faith aside, and another man caught her in his arms before she could regain her balance. She struggled to escape his grip, but it was like fighting against steel restraints. He held her still. She was unable to do anything more than watch in horror as Kent snapped Anton's neck and bit into his throat. Blood spilled down Anton's neck and Kent's chin, glinting in the dim hallway light. _

"_Excellent," Kent said, letting Anton's body drop to the floor. He turned to face Irene, who had let out a yelp as Anton's body hit the floor._

"_Mommy? What's going on?" Grace called from down the hall. "Is everything okay?"_

"_Gracie, stay in there!" Irene shouted shrilly._

"_But Mommy-"_

"_She said stay in there!" Faith shrieked, and got a hand gripping her throat for her trouble. The grip was as solid as the arm pinning her own arms to her side, and it restricted her breathing slightly._

"_Such charming daughters you have, Mrs. O'Rourke. You must be very proud of them. Especially this cutie," he turned around to pat Faith's cheek, and in the dim light from the hallway, she could see that his face was mutated, with yellow eyes, strange ridges on his brow, and sharp predatory teeth peeking out across his bottom lip. _

_Faith screamed as loud as she could, until the man holding her choked the shriek off. She saw stars and struggled, but it was no use. She could hear Kent continuing to talk, saying, "It's a shame that she's such a fighter, because I'm really going to have to kill her now before she attracts any attention from your neighbors." _

_In a last ditch effort, she let the rosary unwrap from around the wrist, and flicked it upward as hard as she could, hoping that the crucifix would rip into her captor's face. Her aim was off, but the cross ripped into the hand around her throat with a sizzling noise. Acrid smoke with a stench like rancid meat rose from the singed flesh as her captor bellowed and let her go. She ran to her mother, waving the rosary around in front of them in hopes that since it had worked on the one, it might work on the other, or at least keep them at bay._

"_Such a resourceful little brat," Kent hissed, and spat at the two of them, his advancement brought up short by the prayer beads. "This won't last, ladies. We'll be back." He and his man climbed back through the broken window in her mother's bedroom._

_Faith's heart was pounding. For the first time in her life, she actually felt terrified. _

_The feeling didn't get any better as she watched her mother go to the phone, dial a number, and begin sobbing into the receiver, saying, "Mama? I'm so sorry. Please can I come home?"_

"I must admit I'm impressed. You were nine years old and yet you managed to protect yourself and your family from a pair of vampires."

"It was dumb luck. If Mom hadn't given me that rosary, we'd have ended up dead, too."

"You still did extraordinarily well."

Faith cast a sideways glance at him, not entirely sure even after all these years of knowing Giles that there wasn't some hidden criticism. Some things were just too deeply ingrained to ever get over, and her distrust of praise was one of them. "You mean it?"

"Entirely."

"Thanks."

A moment passed, as Giles steered the car onto the off-ramp. "What did your mother do that prevented her from contacting her own mother before then?"

"Had a kid before marriage, unless I'm completely off. She never told us what it was for sure, though, and Grandma never thought to either. We were just the kids. Never mind that our whole lives were being uprooted and sent down the crap hole, explanations would have been too damaging to their dignity or some shit like that. But it's what happened." Faith snorted. "I wouldn't have cared anyway. All I cared about was that she never kept her promise."

"What promise was that?"

"To teach me how to pray. I kept the rosary for years; finally lost it while I was in that coma B stuck me in. My place got cleared out when the rent stopped getting paid."

"I'm sorry."

"Nah, don't be. It's fine. I was kinda evil at the time."

"I think that we can both agree there were …extenuating circumstances?" he finished as he pulled the car up in front of a tall hotel. From the shadows of its former lettering that remained at the top, it looked to be an old Ramada Inn. Amazingly, its windows were all still intact. It rose out of rubble, surrounded by decayed, graffitied, and slumped over buildings, looking for all the world as though it had been built yesterday save for the missing logo at the top.

Faith rolled her eyes at Giles, but the comment made her smile. "Sure thing, old man. Is this it? Are we here?"

"Unless my informant was deliberately lying to me, this is our first stop, yes." Giles pulled the brake up, and began to polish his glasses. "Do you want to go in alone, or shall I come with you?"

"Your informant?"

"…Xander."

"I thought he died with B? I'm not going to have to stake him, am I? Because I'm getting really tired of staking old friends."

"You won't have to stake him, Faith. His death is simply the official story. I trust you'll keep that in proper confidence."

"No worries, Giles. Who do I have to tell?"

Giles gave the building in front of them a pointed look.

"Now why would I do a silly thing like that? They wouldn't believe me, anyway," Faith shrugged and opened her door. "B's not still alive then, is she?" She'd be lying if she said she didn't hope for it. Without asking, she knew that Giles felt the same way.

"I can't be sure. Xander didn't know."

"Didn't know or didn't say?"

"Must we talk about this right now?"

"I guess not." Faith got out of the car. "I think you'd better stay here, keep the engine running. Getaway car and all that."

"Are you expecting trouble?"

Faith closed the door and leaned through the open window. "I'm the Slayer. My whole life is trouble. Back in a few."


	3. Chapter 3

See first section for disclaimer and overarching notes. Some rather screwed up family dynamics in this section...and some mild profanity.

I hope you guys enjoy. :)

… … …

Faith carefully picked her way across the rubble. Stones skittered away as she kicked her way through some obstacles, and cement dust clouded up and made her cough. She was getting very tired of rubble, dust, and chaos.

She stopped abruptly, hitting up against an invisible wall, about twenty feet from the door to the old hotel.

"Oh, come on," she grumbled, picking up a handful of the cement dust and throwing it at the barrier. The dust clung, revealing a smooth, outwardly curving surface. Thin hairline cracks webbed across the surface just above easy reach, and she grimaced. She wasn't the first visitor to this place, then. The last one hadn't been friendly, either.

Faith rummaged around in her pocket, looking for her Swiss army knife. If she could just reach, then she figured she could pry her way through the shield. Flicking the blade out, she jumped and buried it into a crack on the rubbery shield.

Instantly, she was paralyzed as electricity shot up her arm and through her body, making every muscle go rigid. She twitched and thrashed from the current, but couldn't let go of the pocket knife. The air smelt of ozone, and gradually her vision wavered out of focus. Memories swarmed up to swallow her consciousness as she blacked out.

"_Jump, Faith! Come on, jump!" the kids in the swimming hole were shouting up at her. She stood at the top of an enormous rock pile, looking down into the old quarry. The boulder beneath her feet teetered precariously; nobody else had dared to climb this one. It was too high, they were afraid of getting hurt. _

_Faith wasn't afraid. She was never afraid._

"_Faith Lehane!" her grandmother's voice pierced through the cacophonous shouts of the other kids like a spear. "Get down from there this second! You could kill yourself."_

_Faith rolled her eyes and jumped off the rock pile into the water. The slap of icy water against her bare skin stung, but she barely felt it behind her pride at doing something the others were all terrified to do. _

"_Faith, we're going home. Now." Her mother joined her grandmother in staring disapprovingly at her from dry land when she surfaced, gasping from the shock of the cold. Hope and Grace were already toweling off, prepared to head home. _

"_But I'm happy here," Faith whispered. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, now stripped of sheets and blankets, while her mother threw the last of her clothing into a backpack._

"_We're going now, Faith."_

"_But I like being here with Grandma."_

"_Don't argue with me. Get up, and get in the car."_

"_But-"_

_Irene slapped her. Silence fell sharply after the crack of palm against cheek, as Faith fought the tears welling up. She ran from the room... _

_In class, kids were laughing as she struggled to solve a simple math problem on the board._

"_Faith, this isn't that difficult. Haven't you been paying any attention at all?" Mr Fenster asked, staring at the ceiling and rubbing his temples. _

"_I have, I just…" she trailed off. How was she supposed to explain that she had been too busy looking after her sisters while her mother was passed out drunk to crack a book and study? She knew that if anyone found out, they might be separated. It was too much to hope for that they'd be allowed to go back to Grandma's house. "Never mind."_

_She closed her eyes against the jeering of her classmates, the obvious exasperation of her teacher, and her own burning cheeks. Fervently, and not for the first time, she wished that she could be anyone else, anywhere in the world but here. "Somehow, I'll show you all…" she whispered to herself._

_When she opened her eyes, she was in the park, late at night. The silver disc of the moon hung low in the sky, cresting atop the branches of the old oak tree. It was early; she still had her backpack on, the shoulder straps biting into her skin with the weight of her textbooks. She sat down on top of an old picnic bench, pulling out her math book. _

_Studying in the park was better than going home. She couldn't see the words very well, but it was better than the constant, riotous noise of her mother fighting with her latest boyfriend about her drinking. She snorted angrily as she flipped pages; her mother had finally found a decent guy who cared about her and treated them all well, but she was threatening to leave him for wanting her to go to rehab. _

"_Figures," Faith muttered. The breeze picked up, and she shivered. A dark shadow fell across the page of her book._

"_You should leave. It's not safe to be out at night alone," a girl said. She looked to be about seventeen, with red hair and almond-shaped green eyes. She was wearing jeans and a white sweater beneath a leather trench coat that was two sizes too big. Faith rolled her eyes._

"_You can't be that much older than me."_

"_I didn't say it was an age thing, did I?" _

"_Who are you?"_

"_My name's Lydia. You should go. There have been some weird things hanging around here lately. Dangerous things"_

"_Like what?" Faith asked. _

"_You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Lydia said. "Go on." _

_Faith stared at her for a few minutes, feeling dubious. "Try me."_

_A large, furred creature with sharp fangs broke through the bushes, charging at them. Blood and saliva dripped from its lolling tongue. Without batting an eyelash, Lydia threw a knife at it, catching it between the eyes. Momentum kept it barreling forward, but it collapsed a few feet before it reached them. The creature was close enough for Faith to see that it was unlike anything she had ever seen before._

"_Things like that," Lydia said calmly. Faith decided to take the older girl at her word. She refused to run away, though, despite the hammering of her heart in her chest. Taking even, measured steps, she made her way through the emptying streets of south Boston. _

Faith's eyes fluttered open, but her vision was still blurry. She groaned as a bolt of pain ripped through her skull. She was confused and disoriented, and couldn't figure out why electrocution would bring up memories of her first meeting with a Slayer-in-training.

_I must be losing my ever-living mind, _she thought as she pulled herself to her feet. Her arms were trembling, and all of her muscles were twitchy. She vaguely noticed that she seemed to be within the magical barrier now. Picking up a handful of dust and throwing it, she saw that her theory was correct, but the wall was terribly damaged now. She had fallen through a medium-sized hole that the electricity had carved. "Oops."

Faith staggered forward, pausing frequently to rest until she finally reached the door. Two young women stopped her. Faith gritted her teeth and through sheer willpower forced herself to stand tall and straight, without leaning on anything. Her muscles still quivered, but that couldn't be helped.

"Freeze. Name yourself," the brunette on the left said.

"Oh, come off it, Kennedy," Faith growled. "You know damn well who I am. I need to talk to Red."

"Nobody gets past us," the blonde on the right said. Faith didn't recognize her, but she couldn't have been more than eighteen.

"Get out of my way, munchkins," Faith said, pushing forward. Kennedy easily shoved her back.

"You don't have permission to be here. You know Willow doesn't want to see you."

"Willow is just going to have to suck it up and deal like a big girl," Faith countered. "Besides, there's a great big hole in her shield she's going to need to attend to. It looks like I'm not the first one who tried to get through. Now let me see her."

The blonde looked at Kennedy. "Willow will need to know about the shield," she murmured.

"Fine, get her." The blonde turned to leave, and Faith made to follow her. "I didn't say you could come in," Kennedy added, roughly barring Faith's entry.

"You're lucky I've just been electrocuted," Faith snapped.

Kennedy didn't reply.

After a few minutes, Willow appeared. The blonde was nowhere in sight.

"Faith. What brings you here?"

"You don't look nearly as surprised as you should be," Faith laughed. "Nice palace, Red. What, you got a whole Amazonian Slayer-harem going on?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but I'm taking care of them."

"Better you than me; Slayers are a quirky bunch. Especially so, these days."

"What do you want, Faith?"

"To congratulate you on surviving Donovan's assassination attempt, mainly. I'm impressed. How did you ever figure it out in time?"

"He's possessed by dark magics I've already conquered. All that's beneath me." Willow's tone remained cool and even, despite the obvious baiting Faith was engaging in.

"Great. Then you won't mind coming back to California and helping take him down, will you?"

"I'm not leaving here."

Faith shrugged. "It's up to you, I guess. Not like I can make you. But I gotta ask you something, Red."

Willow crossed her arms over her chest and nodded for Faith to continue.

"What would B say? You know, about you sacrificing the world because you've gone soft, hiding out behind an electric fence with your Slayer toys… while _I'm _out there, of all people, fighting the good fight. It's not like hiding even gets you anywhere. Your girl's gonna die, Red. All the Potentials who _you _activated are going batshit crazy. All of them, even the ones that don't lose it, their brains rot in their heads, or their internal organs turn to sludge, and they die. I've seen it. I've seen it here and everywhere else I've traveled. Buffy and Xander died in this fight; isn't continuing it the least you can do to respect their memories?"

Kennedy got up in Faith's face. "How dare you come here and accuse us-"

"Kennedy! Stop." Willow's voice was tired, and her face was drawn. "She's not entirely wrong."

Kennedy whipped her head around to stare at Willow. Faith simply raised an eyebrow at her. "Didn't expect you to give in so easy," she said, taking a step back.

Willow bit her lip. "When do we need to be there? Laura's too weak to go anywhere right now, and I can't leave her. If I do, she's dead."

"Giles says we have three months. Get there in two and a half. Can you do that?"

Willow nodded, her jaw set. "I can do that. But it's for Buffy and Xander, not for you."

Faith nodded. "I'd worry if it were for me." She turned to leave, stumbling over the rocks as her body protested against moving.

"Faith!"

"Yeah, Red?"

Willow waved her hand and mumbled something under her breath. The twitching and spasms plaguing Faith stopped. "Take care."

Faith nodded at her. "You too."

She staggered slowly back to the car. Even with Willow's patching-up, she was still weakened. Giles saw her coming and got out to help her.

"Are you alright?" he asked anxiously, looking her over.

"Yeah, fine. Red has one nasty electrified shield up, though." Faith winced and stumbled.

Giles nodded, and helped her into the car. As soon as they were moving again, he looked over to her. "How did it go?"

"She'll help. One of her girls is sick, I guess. I told her to be there in two and a half months."

"Do you think she will be?"

Faith nodded. "I appealed to her better nature."

"Oh?"

"I asked her what Buffy would think if she just hid out, knowing that she and Xander sacrificed everything in this fight. So she'll be there. Not for us, but who cares what her reason it as long as she shows, right?"

He nodded, his expression pinched at the mention of Buffy. "That was very smart of you."

"Nah, it was manipulative and bitchy. But whatever works, right?" she asked. Giles shook his head and patted her on the knee. She smiled faintly and closed her eyes, leaning her head against the window as she dozed off. The next thing she knew, Giles was shaking her shoulder.

"What is it?"

"It sounded like you were having a nightmare," he said simply. Faith stretched groggily, focusing on the dream she'd been having.

"Yeah, kinda," she agreed after a moment. "Getting electrocuted made me remember some things."

"Like what?"

Faith shrugged. "When I was thirteen, back when I was still trying to do okay in school, I would leave the house to study in the park. There was no way I was going to get anything done at home." She shrugged. "Anyway, there were a lot of creepy things that lurked in that park. It's where I saw my first werewolf. And it's where I met Donovan. In my dream, I was back."

Giles nodded, clearly considering this. "This may be difficult to speak of, but you and Donovan obviously have a… a history," he said. "Perhaps it may be of some use to us."

Faith shrugged. She had been hoping not to have to talk about this, to be able to throw in comments as they became relevant but to not have to discuss the entire complicated history. "I don't know if there's much to tell," she said.

Giles frowned. "I understand if it's difficult," he said, "but it's also important. You can trust me."

"Yeah, and how many times have I heard _that_ before," she grumbled. She didn't realize she'd said it aloud until she caught the hurt expression that flitted across Giles's face for a moment. "Giles, I'm sorry, I just… I'm not used to this. It's one thing to go all Psych 101 and talk about my mom and shit that happened so long ago it has no possible way of coming back to get me, but Donovan is different."

"What is the difference?" Giles asked gently.

"I'm still caught up in it."

He reached over and put his arm around her shoulders. She let him pull her into a one-armed hug, and rested her head on his shoulder. The gesture made her feel very secure, and she smiled, even though she knew he had probably planned for that effect. "That's cheating," she grumbled.

Giles laughed, but didn't take his arm from her shoulders. She didn't move, either. They were both silent for a few minutes, the only sound the whir of the engine and the blowing of the air conditioner. Faith opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to find the words.

"I met Donovan the night after I met Lydia," she finally said. Giles didn't say anything, he just listened as she began to tell the story that had been shaping her life for longer than she wanted to admit. "He was Amelia's nephew, but I didn't know about her yet, and he was Lydia's boyfriend. She was a Slayer-in-training, and he was training to be a Watcher…"

"_I thought I told you it was dangerous to be here," Lydia's voice startled Faith and caused her to drop her math book in the mud. She picked it up, frowned, and scrubbed frantically at the pages with her sleeve._

"_There's nowhere else for me to go," Faith objected. It wasn't what she would normally have said, but the older girl's catlike eyes held her frozen; somehow she knew lying would be futile._

"_You should be home."_

"_You wouldn't be saying that if you'd seen my home."_

_Lydia opened her mouth to answer, but was cut off by a shout from a male voice. "Who are you talking to, L?"_

"_The little girl I saw here last night," Lydia called back._

_Faith bristled. "I am not a little girl! I'm thirteen!" she protested loudly. The guy snorted, coming into view, and Faith sat up straighter. He was beautiful, with thick dark brown hair, pale blue eyes, and a bronze complexion. She instantly felt awkward and ungainly, and was suddenly calculating how to make herself seem older, braver, more mature._

"_However old you are, it's dangerous to be out here," he said._

"_So I've been told. But nobody will tell me why."_

_The boy didn't answer, he just stood there staring at her, his eyes wide. "What's your name?" he asked finally._

"_Faith. Yours?"_

"_Donovan. L, where's my aunt?" His tone was urgent, and he was still staring at Faith._

"_I don't know; what's the problem?"_

"_This girl…Shit, man." Donovan turned and ran back the way he had come from. Faith looked at Lydia, who was gaping after him. _

"_I gotta go," she said, and took off running in the opposite direction, heading home as quickly as she could._

_She could hear the shouts coming from the apartment from four houses away. Her mother's words were slurred; Jackson, the latest in a string of crappy boyfriends since Irene had dumped the decent one, was shouting. Faith paused on the doorstep, squaring her shoulders, and ducked inside. The reek of cigarette smoke and sour beer assaulted her nose. She counted her footsteps; if she could make it to her room in twelve or fewer, nobody would bother her…_

_Irene grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, surprisingly strong for all that she was drunk off her ass and swaying on her feet. "Where have you been?" she demanded, and Faith could smell the alcohol on her breath. "You're not allowed to be out at night. What if the cops picked you up? They'd think I was neglecting you."_

"_It's not even that late," Faith muttered quietly, biting back the comment that they were being neglected. Irene slapped her across the face. "Speak up. When I ask you a question, you answer me clearly. Where were you?"_

"_Studying."_

_Irene laughed, a short bitter sound. "You don't study. If you studied, you wouldn't be failing half your classes. Don't lie to me!" Another slap, on the other cheek this time. _

"_I was out for a walk," Faith said quietly._

"_No more walks," Irene told her. "Go study. And actually try this time."_

_Faith slunk into the room she shared with Grace and Hope. Both of them were studying, with their winter earmuffs on despite the fact that it was only September. Faith realized they must have been using them to block out the fight._

"_Are you okay?" Grace asked, pulling hers off. "What did Mama do?"_

"_Nothing," Faith said, putting on a smile. Her cheeks stung. "She and Jackson are just having another disagreement is all."_

_Grace nodded, then picked up a picture and bounced over to her. "Look what I drew! I got an A-plus on it in art class today!"_

"_Good job, Gracie," Faith said, giving her sister a little hug. She tried to smile, but her tone was dull and proved the lie to her cheer. She climbed up her bunk bed, and stared at the ceiling. She could see that Grace and Hope were both staring at her, so she rolled over to face the wall. She just wanted to sleep for a good long time. Fortunately, the next day was a Saturday._

_Faith woke up to a cigarette burning into her arm. "Get up!" Irene demanded. "I've been calling you for twenty minutes."_

_Faith could tell her mother was already drunk, probably hadn't even sobered up the night before. "What is it?" she asked, rubbing her arm._

"_I'm going out for an hour. If the phone rings, take a message."_

"_Okay." Faith tried to keep the anger out of her voice that she had been so rudely awoken for something so stupid. She sat up carefully, and realized she was still in her clothes from the night before. _

_There was no food in the kitchen. There was plenty of beer, though. Not that any of that surprised Faith. Trash littered the living room floor; Jackson hadn't taken it out the night before, and she could hear the garbage truck driving away. Neither Grace nor Hope were around; Faith figured they must have escaped early. The tiny apartment felt even more claustrophobic than usual, and she found herself pacing restlessly. An hour and a half later, she decided to leave. She'd face the consequences of her mother's wrath later._

_The streets seemed strangely empty and silent. An eerie feeling crawled up her spine as she headed to the park, seeing a large sectioned cordoned off with police tape. She slowed to a halt, watching from a distance as paramedics loaded a couple of severely mauled bodies onto stretchers and into an ambulance._

"_Didn't anyone ever teach you not to follow ambulances?" Donovan said behind her. She jumped nearly three feet straight up into the air. _

"_What happened here?"_

_He shrugged. "Werewolf, it looks like. L and I had to bail real quick last night; we didn't stick around long enough to take it out."_

_Faith rolled her eyes. "Werewolf? I'm not that gullible."_

_Donovan snorted. "L said she killed one in front of you. She was real impressed; apparently you didn't scream or run. That's a good thing; they're predators, so that attracts them."_

"_Who are you?"_

"_What, you don't remember me?"_

"_I remember fine. You took off running after getting a good look at me, even though three seconds before that you were trying to tell me it was too dangerous to be out in the park. I don't really see much reason to listen to someone who clearly can't defend himself against his own shadow. So I'm curious why you think you can give me orders."_

"_Bravado. I like. You're hiding a lot of hurt behind it, though, and it leaks out around the edges. I can see it."_

_Faith snorted._

"_No really. I see auras. And you've got one hell of a crazy-ass vibe going on."_

"_I don't believe in that stuff."_

"_So what do you believe in?"_

"_Me."_

"_More bravado. Huh. You're the strongest Potential I've ever seen. Normally it goes in for people with more real strength. We must be close to getting seriously screwed if it's all going to rely on someone's pride."_

"_What are you talking about?"_

_Donovan shrugged. "You'll find out soon enough, kiddo. Just remember: when they come for you? Say yes." He turned and walked away without a second glance back for her._

_A chill breeze rustled the leaves overhead. Faith headed back to the house, suddenly overtaken by a need to sit and pontificate. _

"_I told you to stay here and take a message," Irene snapped as she walked in the door, getting up in her face._

"_You also said you'd be back in an hour. I waited for almost two."_

_Irene threw the glass of water she was holding at Faith. "Your sisters do what I ask. Why the hell can't you? None of my requests are hard. Are you just stupid?"_

"_Yeah, that's it. I'm just an idiot."_

"_Well stop it!" Irene hit her to emphasize the point. "There's never been any idiots in our family before, we're not going to start now."_

"_I'm sorry, Mom," Faith grumbled, her tone clearly indicating she was anything but. She tried to head for her room._

"_I didn't say you could go."_

"_Okay." Faith stopped and turned to look at Irene expectantly. _

"_Get out of my sight," she snapped when it became clear that she had nothing else to say._

_Faith shrugged and went into her room. Her sisters were already back, noses buried in books. The weight of the silence was oppressive. There was so much they could never talk about._

"_How was your walk?" Hope asked._

"_Good," Faith said, climbing up into her bunk. She closed her eyes, trying to sleep._

"Mom had gotten a lot worse by that point; it was this awful downward slide. Amelia said that it was the result of being mistreated by a long succession of people, but having a reason didn't make it any better." Faith sighed. "It was just a hard time. I couldn't tell anyone what was happening, and no matter where I was, it never got better. At school I was stupid, at home I was stupid and stubborn; it's no wonder I spent all my free time in the park despite the werewolves."

Giles didn't say anything; he just patted her shoulder.

"The werewolf incidents just kept increasing. Every so often, I'd run into Lydia or Donovan, and they'd explain that they thought there was a pack or two in town. About six months later, it all exploded."

_When Faith got home from her after-school walk, it was after dark. The full moon hung heavily in the sky, shedding enough light that, even from a distance, she could see the apartment was a ransacked mess. The door hung off its hinges, and there was debris strewn throughout the living room. A jolt of fear raced through her and she ran inside, heading straight for her room. The door was gouged, but still firmly on its hinges, and wedged shut with a heavy object – she assumed the bunk bed – barricading it from the other side. She banged on it._

"_It's me! Let me in! Grace, Hope!"_

"_Is it gone?" Grace's voice was tear-choked._

"_Yes, let me in."_

_She could hear furniture being moved around, and soon the door was opened a crack. Faith slipped inside and took stock of her two sisters. They had both clearly been crying, and Grace was shaking. Faith held her arms open, and Grace clung to her, shivering violently. _

"_What happened?" Faith asked, stroking Grace's hair in what she hoped was a soothing gesture._

"_There was this…huge creature," Hope said. "It came out of Mom's room. We heard something moving around in there, so we peeked outside our door. It saw us, and we slammed the door as fast as we could. I thought it was going to break it in; but Grace moved the bunk bed. It gave up a little after that, and we could hear it in the living room."_

"_Are you guys okay? It didn't hurt you?" Both sisters shook their heads, and Faith sighed in relief. "We need to get out of here. It could come back."_

"_Where can we go?" Hope asked._

_Faith shrugged. She didn't know._

"_Can we call Nana?" Grace asked. "She said we could call her anytime."_

"_You do that. Here," Faith left the room and came back with the cordless receiver. "You call. Hope, you start packing. I'm going to see if there are any signs of what it was."_

"_No, Faith, don't," Hope protested. "Stay here. Please?"_

_Not for the first time, it crossed Faith's mind that she acted more like the eldest than Hope ever did. She was certainly braver. Nevertheless, Faith nodded, and sat down next to her. _

"_Was Mom here?" Faith asked quietly, as Grace dialed a number from a piece of paper she pulled out of her pillowcase._

"_She drank too much and passed out in the bathtub this afternoon," Hope said. "I found her when she didn't come out for two hours. I drained the tub but I couldn't move her, so I just closed the door and left her there. The thing didn't know how to open doors, or it would have gotten in here before we could move the bunk bed. She's probably fine."_

"_I should check on her."_

_Hope didn't stop Faith as she stood up. "Please don't take too long."_

"_I won't." _

_The hallway had never felt so long before. Every mildewing spot on the wall, stain on the carpet, and cobweb in the corners stood out in sharp relief as Faith walked to the back room, taking care to move as silently as possible._

_The window had been shattered. Broken glass was everywhere. The mattress had been shredded, and feathers from the pillows made the room look like the site of a chicken massacre. The bathroom door was open, deep gouges ripped into the wood. Faith's heart began to race, and she struggled to breathe as she made her way to the door. _

_The bathroom mirror had been broken. One of the towel rods had been ripped from the wall, the metal twisted and broken. Water and blood splattered the floor._

"_Oh god, oh god…" she heard someone muttering, not even recognizing her own voice. Someone else was whimpering. "Mom? Mama?" she called. There was no answer, so she squared her shoulders and walked into the bathroom. The curtain was pulled closed, hiding the tub. "Mama?" she asked again, reaching out a trembling hand to pull the curtain back._

_A low growl behind her made her freeze. "Who's there?" she asked in a quavering voice. "Hello?"_

_The growl grew louder. Faith closed her eyes, certain that she was going to die. On instinct she grabbed the metal towel rod and spun around, bringing it up in front of her like a sword and swinging with all her strength. The instinct proved to be right – the werewolf backed off, its hackles raising. Blood matted the fur on its left side, and a wooden bolt stuck out of its back. Faith brandished the towel rod again, as another crossbow bolt flew into the room and struck the creature in the neck. _

_Lydia climbed in the window, a crossbow slung over one shoulder, and Faith thought she might collapse from relief._

"_Did it bite you?" she asked brusquely, watching the werewolf as it thrashed on the floor. _

_Faith shook her head. "No."_

"_Did it bite anyone else?"_

"_I don't… I don't know. My sisters are okay. But my mom…" Faith spun around and pulled the curtain back. Donovan was sitting inside the tub with a sword. He had draped a ratty, grey towel over her mother's body._

"_All clear," he said calmly, climbing to his feet. "I tracked the alpha here," he told Lydia. "Got in a few good blows before it escaped and I had to deal with the beta, there."_

"_What were you doing in my mother's shower?" Faith demanded._

"_I heard you coming, and thought you were another wolf. I was saying my final prayers before doing something colossally stupid and taking it on alone. She was unconscious when I got here, by the way, but no bites. Does this passing out happen often?"_

"_Go to hell." Faith wasn't sure why she felt compelled to defend her mother, but she felt deep shame at the idea of him judging her family. He only gave her a sad smile in response. "Why didn't you answer me when I called?"_

"_You were calling for your mother; I didn't want to freak you out."_

"_Where'd the alpha go?" Lydia demanded before Faith could retort._

"_I don't know. It obviously knows this area well. I'm guessing resident."_

_Lydia nodded. "I'll track it. You deal with the family?"_

"_Be safe."_

"_As much as I can be." Lydia raced down the hall, moving noiselessly despite her speed._

"_Well, that was exciting," Donovan said, turning to face Faith. "We should probably call the authorities. Should we leave your mother in the tub, or shall I carry her?"_

"_I can handle this," Faith said. The idea of him sticking around any longer and seeing more of the abject poverty her family lived in made her want to squirm._

"_There's that bravado again."_

"_I said I can handle it."_

"_Alright." Donovan shrugged, then held the sword out to her, hilt-first. "Keep this. Never know when you might need it."_

_Faith reached out to take the sword from him, her fingers brushing against his as she wrapped hers around the hilt. She blushed and looked away. When she looked back, he was already halfway gone._

"I was such an idiot," Faith said.

"Only if you judge the past in light of the present," Giles corrected. "You had no way of knowing what he would become."

"I cared more about what he thought than why my mom was still unconscious."

Giles nodded, conceding the point. "Your mother's track record provided a ready explanation."

"She had alcohol poisoning and could have died," Faith insisted. "Grandma showed up a little later. I forget what bullshit excuse was given for the destruction of the house, but it satisfied the cops. The paramedics wanted to report us to social services, though. Grandma lied and said that she lived there, too, so we wouldn't be taken away. She said that it would kill mom to lose us, and she couldn't do that to her."

Giles gently squeezed her shoulder, and she knew he could hear the terrible bitterness in her voice. "You wish she hadn't?"

"I wish she'd thought about what it would lead to. Mom _never_ learned. She didn't even try. Grace and Hope got more and more screwed up, and I… we…" she bit her tongue and shook her head. She couldn't say the words.

"You were abused, all three of you," Giles finished quietly. "It should never have happened."

"It feels so dramatic to say that. Abuse only happens to victims. I'm not a victim. I'm a survivor."

"To be a survivor requires something to survive," he pointed out.

"Fuck your logic," Faith grumbled.

Giles chuckled. "So what happened next?" he prompted.

"Next I met Amelia."


	4. Chapter 4

See first section for disclaimer and overarching notes.

I'm going to be honest and tell you all that I feel like this is dragging. It's not that I don't know how the story is supposed to go, it's just that I'm having a tricky time figuring out how to weave all the different plotlines together, and this "Faith tells Giles a story" format isn't working so well for me. This might be on pause for a while as I figure out a better vehicle for weaving alternate timelines together. Do let me know, though, if this way of doing things has been working okay. I'm often highly critical of what I write, and if I waited until I thought everything were perfect, I'd never share anything.

We'll be having a lot more characters start popping up in the narrative's "present" soon, in case you were wondering. I hope you'll stick it out with me! (I'll keep writing this anyway, but yeah...it's always nice to have an audience.)

Thanks for stopping by!

… … …

"Meeting your first Watcher is always a turning point," Giles agreed.

Faith snorted. "That's one way of putting it."

"Oh?"

"Oh, come on; you knew her, Giles. Weren't all you Watcher people buddies?"

"I was familiar with Amelia Crane by reputation alone. Granted, hers was quite formidable, but we never had occasion to meet."

"Really?" Faith sat back up straight. Her neck was starting to crick anyway. Giles let her go, putting both hands back on the steering wheel. "What was her reputation?"

Giles grimaced, and shook his head, resolutely refusing to meet Faith's stare.

"Come on, tell me."

"Her dissertation was on rogue Slayers, how to prevent them, and how to contain one should circumstances arise."

"Oh." Faith considered this for a minute. "_Oh. _So that means…"

"The techniques that were employed during your rogue days were of Amelia's design, yes."

"Shit." Faith swallowed hard. "Was that all…?"

Giles sighed. "The Council necessarily had a vested interest in preventing rogues. It was widely rumored that, if one had a 'damaged' Potential on their hands, Amelia was the last resort to bring them under control. Her methods were rumored to be most effective; she held seminars on the subject for years. Some referred to her as a sort of horse whisperer for Potential Slayers."

The way Giles talked about it, it sounded so clinical and impersonal_. _Faith shuddered. "I trusted her."

"And you were right to. She was an honorable woman. It just wasn't entirely by chance that she was assigned as your Watcher."

Faith felt dizzy, trying to re-evaluate everything in the light of this new knowledge, looking for tell-tale clues that everything wasn't as it appeared. She couldn't tell; the years had blurred everything together and she hardly knew what was real and what was her own whitewashing because staying with Amelia was better than staying at home. She had been so young then, not even fourteen yet…

_The high school let out early for parent-teacher conferences, and Faith trudged slowly home. She'd only been attending for two weeks, and already the students were avoiding her. She'd surprised even herself with how quickly she could be isolated. _

_It only took her a few days before she was sneaking off campus and ditching classes anyway. Not like her mom would find out, let alone stop her. And even if the principal called her grandmother, Irene had made it very clear that she didn't want her mother interfering in the family's activities. As far as Faith was concerned, she was home free. She'd only stayed in class today because Jason Tavers, the cutest boy in her class, had started talking to her just before she walked off campus. _

_Students swarmed away from the school in groups of three and four. Hope had told Faith to go on ahead; she needed to catch up her studies in the library. Faith had shrugged and shifted her backpack, meandering her way away from campus. She didn't have anywhere in particular she was headed anyway._

_About half a mile from the school, she realized that she was being followed. A black Toyota minivan was keeping pace with her, always about a block behind. She doubled back and slipped down an alleyway, but when she emerged on the other end of the block, the car was still on her trail. Her heart was beginning to pound as she headed for the park. _

_Just before she could reach it, the van pulled up in front of her and a middle-aged woman with silvering dark hair pulled back into a severe bun, blue eyes, and a black power-suit climbed out. She was handsome, rather than pretty, and she radiated strength._

"_Faith Lehane?" she asked in a lightly accented voice._

"_Who the hell's asking?"_

"_My name is Amelia Crane. I'd like you to come with me please."_

_Faith snorted. "Dude, you must think I'm stupid or something. First rule of not ending up dead in a ditch: don't go with anyone you've never met before. Especially not if they're driving around in an unmarked van."_

"_What did I tell you about saying yes when they came for you?" a familiar voice shouted, and Faith turned her head to see Donovan climbing out of the backseat. "Amelia's my aunt. Not some psychokiller."_

"_Donovan, this doesn't concern you. Take the van home, and wait for further instructions. Do you understand?"_

_Faith studied them both carefully. She could see the resemblance now that she knew there was a blood relationship, but she never would have put it together on her own. Donovan huffed a little, but relented and did as he was told. The car sped away, veering dangerously._

"_What do you want with me?"_

"_I'm told that you're a very extraordinary young woman. I would like the opportunity to speak with you. Have you had lunch? There is a lovely café just down the road."_

_Faith didn't say anything, just watching her suspiciously. Finally, she nodded, and Amelia led the way._

"_Extraordinary how?"_

"_Beg pardon?"_

"_You said you were told that I'm a very extraordinary young woman. What did you mean? Who told you about me?"_

"_Lydia was highly impressed with your courage in the face of a werewolf the first time you had ever seen one. She and Donovan both tell me that you maintained poise when confronted with one in your own home. Donovan also tells me that you have a powerful aura. I admit I thought he was exaggerating, but now that I see you, I realize I must apologize to him for my doubts."_

"_What the hell are you, some kind of monster-fighting mafia loonies?" Faith demanded. "You're talking crazy shit."_

_Amelia laughed, a tittering, birdlike sound. "I felt the same when I was introduced to this world. Surely you've realized that there's more than is commonly accepted as fact? Haven't you ever seen something that couldn't be explained in our everyday, acceptable paradigm of reality? Like those creatures that ripped your apartment's doors off their hinges?"_

_Faith shifted uncomfortably. "So? Mutant dogs attacked my house. Whatever."_

"_Listen to me, Faith, and listen very closely. The world is at war. Every night a battle is waged between humanity and the forces of darkness. One girl in all the world is chosen to be the Slayer, to stand in the gap and defend us from the vampires, the demons, and all that is evil. You have the potential to be that girl; more than I've seen in all my days of training Potentials."_

"_Okay. You're crazy," Faith said slowly, over-enunciating the words deliberately. "There are no monsters that go bump in the night. No closet monsters, no vampires, no demons. None of it."_

"_If you're so certain, come out on a patrol with me. Several vampires have moved into town, and need dealing with."_

"_No."_

"_Why not?"_

"_Because I only just met you, and now you want me to, what? Go lurk in a graveyard with you? Yeah, because that'll end so well."_

_Amelia laughed and shook her head disbelievingly. "You have so much to learn. I can teach you to harness the rage and the pain you carry around, to use them productively."_

"_I'm fine," Faith growled._

"_I'm sure you are. But your emotions are what they are and to deny it is to weaken yourself by fighting them twice. If it makes a difference, most of your training would be with Lydia and Donovan. If you so chose, you could have minimal contact with me."_

_She felt embarrassed about it, but Faith couldn't help but perk up a little at the thought of spending more time near Donovan. "Just once," she said. "And I can't be out too late. I have to take care of my sisters."_

_Amelia nodded. "I understand. Shall we meet at the cemetery at, say, seven thirty? Just after sundown?"_

"_Fine. Whatever." Faith turned and walked away. Amelia stood, but didn't follow her. Faith wasn't surprised by that. She headed back to the school to see if Hope was out yet, but it turned out that the librarian hadn't seen her at all that afternoon._

_At home, Irene was collapsed on the couch, totally unconscious. Grace was in their bedroom, doing her homework. _

"_It's dark in here," Faith said as she entered the room. The curtains were drawn back to let as much light in as possible, but it was still dim. She reached over to turn on the light, flipped the switch a few times, and groaned. "Mom forgot to pay the electric bill again? I'm going to call Grandma." _

"_I already did," Grace answered, without looking up. "She says she's not going to pay it this month, or any month, until Mom gets help."_

"_Yeah, that'll be the day," Faith muttered._

"_Mom said she'd try."_

"_Did she say that to you, or to Grandma?"_

_Grace bit her lip. "Grandma."_

_Faith nodded. "I'm sure she'll keep her promise." It was a struggle not to let the sarcasm and bitterness show in her tone. "Where's Hope?"_

"_Probably with her boyfriend."_

"_Hope has a boyfriend?"_

"_She didn't tell you?"_

_Faith shook her head. "Must've forgot."_

_Grace nodded exuberantly. "Probably! But I wasn't supposed to say anything, so please don't tell her I told you?"_

"_Yeah, sure." Faith turned to leave, but froze in the doorway as it struck her that this was the longest conversation she'd had with either sister in months. "Hey Gracie?"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_You doing okay?"_

"_Do I look like something's wrong?"_

"_No, I just…" Faith shrugged. "Never mind. Just realized how big you're getting. I can't believe you're in the fourth grade already."_

"_Yeah."_

"_Like I said, not important."_

"_So why are you still babbling?" _

"_No reason, just… never mind. I'm going for a walk."_

"_Try to get home before Mama wakes up this time. She gets angry at us when you're not here."_

"_She doesn't hurt you or anything, does she?" _

"_Why would she do that?" Grace asked, sounding genuinely confused. "She just cries a lot about how you don't love her. Why are you so mean to her?"_

_Faith felt like she'd been punched. "I'm not. But someone has to be the grown-up." She left the house in a hurry, and headed to the cemetery even though there were still several hours before her appointment to meet Amelia there. She left too quickly to even bring a book, and passed the time until sunset sitting at the base of a tree, watching two squirrels store up for the winter._

"_Now what's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?" she heard a Southern-accented male voice ask behind her. She jumped to her feet, turning to face the intruder. _

"_Who the hell are you?"_

"_No need to be so on-edge, sweetheart, I just wanted to say hello. Maybe get to know you a little."_

"_That's what they all say," Faith growled, putting her fists up. "Leave me alone."_

"_A fighter, eh? I love it when they fight," he said gleefully. He shook his head and his face mutated: his canines elongated, disturbing ridges popped up along his brow, and his eyes took on an eerie yellow cast. A quiet corner of Faith's mind shouted that she had seen this before, and suddenly she was back in the old dingy apartment, all those years back, the night Anton had been shot._

_The man-creature made a quick move, faster than she could see let alone process, but she was already moving, dodging, slipping gracefully to the side and throwing a punch of her own. They traded blows for a few moments, but she was losing ground fast, growing dizzy and disoriented from solid blows that landed on her face. _

"_Didn't anybody ever teach you that it's rude to hit girls?" a familiar voice shouted, and Lydia punched him hard enough across the face that he stumbled for a moment. They were much more evenly matched, despite Lydia's small stature compared to his. Neither of them seemed able to get the upper hand, though. Eventually he knocked Lydia's feet out from under her. She fell hard onto her back with a terrible popping noise and a cry of pain. The man grinned, and hauled her up by the hair, forcing her head to the side. Suddenly he turned to dust, and Faith could see Amelia standing there with a crossbow. Donovan stood just behind her to her left._

"_Sloppy," she said simply, looking at Lydia. "Next time, pay more attention to your feet. Can you stand?"_

_Lydia whimpered, but pulled herself to her feet. She didn't seem able to straighten up, though. Donovan ran forward from his aunt's side to support her. Faith saw the look that passed between them, and instantly felt jealous. It was clear that they cared deeply about one another._

"_What the hell was that?" she asked, trying to clear her head._

"_That was a vampire," Donovan said. _

"_One of the creatures of darkness you don't believe in," Amelia added. "I hope you've realized the futility of disbelief from that little lesson."_

"_You set that up?"_

"_Hardly. He's been nesting here for a week. I rather expected us to have enough time to deal with him before you showed up, if you even bothered to, since you seemed hell-bent on getting away from me as quickly as possible earlier. What prompted the change of heart?"_

"_Curiosity," Faith lied._

_Donovan and Lydia started to laugh. A look from Amelia stopped that in its tracks. _

"_You'll need more than curiosity if I'm to accept you as a trainee, Faith. Everything I've seen so far suggests that you are willful and obstinate. Why should I put in the effort to instruct you?"_

"_Because you offered," Faith retorted. "So you must have seen something you like."_

"_Is that all?" Amelia turned to walk away._

"_Wait!"_

"_Yes?"_

"_Because I'm better than what you've seen. I can do this."_

"_Show me."_

"_I can't. The vampire's dead." Faith pointed to the ground in front of Lydia's feet, where a few stray ashes had collected in a sad little grey heap._

"_Actually, there's another one behind you," Donovan supplied._

_Faith turned, adrenaline already pumping through her system, and launched herself at the creature. She lost ground quickly, but she didn't make it easy. After a few rounds, just before she could make a truly stupid mistake, Amelia shot it with the crossbow._

"_Perhaps I will take you on as a student. But there are some rules we must establish first."_

_Faith nodded. She was willing to agree to anything if it gave her an escape from her daily hell. Beating up on monsters seemed like the perfect solution._

…

_Hope watched as Faith filled her backpack with strange looking weapons._

"_Are you in a gang?" she asked. "Is _that_ why you're always coming home so late, and why you're always hurt?"_

_Faith rolled her eyes. "I'm not in a gang, Hope. You should know better than that."_

"_So where do you go?"_

"_Out."_

_They fell silent as shouting from the other bedroom rose and peaked, was punctured by thuds and the sound of breaking glass, then subsided into sobs._

"_I'm leaving, you psychotic bitch!" Jackson shouted. "I don't care if you get your shit together, it's over!" The front door slammed, and Faith and Hope winced. Grace looked at the two of them over the top of her book._

"_You can't leave now, Faith."_

"_I have to."_

"_Mama will cry."_

"_Mom's already crying," Faith grumbled, trying to act like it didn't matter. "She gets drunk and she cries; that's all that she does. Maybe now that Jackson left she'll finally have to get it together."_

"_Faith-" Hope began, but she fell silent as her younger sister turned to glare at her. "You know it's not that simple," she whispered when Faith went back to packing her bag._

"_Yeah, well I have shit to do. Important shit, so I'll be back later." She pulled the bag over one shoulder. "Don't stay up too late. Don't let Mom leave the house like that, either. I'll be back in a little while."_

_Her two sisters nodded. As soon as Faith closed the bedroom door behind her, though, she heard Hope say, "There's no way she _isn't _in a gang."_

"_Maybe she's on drugs," Grace suggested, as though that would somehow be better. "Cindy's cousin is on drugs. They make people act crazy."_

"_Maybe. I guess it's possible, but I don't know, Gracie. I just don't recognize Faith anymore. She's like a whole different person."_

_Faith didn't wait around to listen anymore. She headed for the front door, but her mother intercepted her on the way out._

"_Faith, baby, where are you going?" she asked._

"_Out. I have things to do." She waited, but her mother didn't move from the doorway. "Please move? I'm not going to pick you up just to get at the door."_

_Irene began to cry. "Please don't go, too. I'm sorry, sweetie. I've been a terrible mother to you and your sisters, I know-"_

"_What the hell was your first clue?" Faith demanded. She couldn't help it. She had been repressing her emotions and words on the matter for so long, that they were just waiting for any crack in the silence so they could explode outward._

"_I'm sorry, baby. I've been terrible, I have, but I'm trying. It's just so hard."_

"_Mom. Mom!" It took a few shouts before Faith finally got Irene's attention. "You need help. Call Grandma; call anyone. Just stop drinking and stop flaking out! If you can't do that, you're going to lose everyone you have left." She had enough willpower not to let the last sentence out: _You've already lost me.

_Irene nodded, and reached out, grabbing hold of Faith's arm and squeezing it. "Baby, just give me another chance. I can change; really, sweetheart, I can. Just don't leave…"_

"_I'll be back later. I promise. I have things I have to do; if I don't, nobody else will."_

_She felt like a terrible person, but she pried her mother's fingers from around her wrist and slipped out the door, trying to block out the sound of her sobs. "It's for the best," she whispered over and over to herself as she headed to the cemetery for her patrol. "It's for the best. There's nobody else who can do this but me…" The fact that she knew it was a lie didn't help any. She was sure that it was going to be a rough night of vampire hunting._

_Her prediction turned out to be right._

"_Faith, concentrate!" Amelia shouted at her, after the fourth time she needed to be rescued-by-crossbow. "What has gotten into you? Your focus is absolutely gone!"_

"_Well maybe it was never there!" Faith shouted back, losing all patience. "You act like my screwing up is something that's surprising. Just ask anyone who knows me and you'll see what bullshit that is!" Once the words were out, she covered her mouth, eyes wide in horror at revealing so much._

"_Well, I'd say it's about time," Amelia said. "I was wondering when you'd let the façade crack. Does saying it make you feel better?"_

"_What would you know about it? What would you know about _any _of it? You waltz into my life like I'm supposed to be grateful for everything you do, but all you've done is made the monsters real. Not even my kid sister is stupid enough to believe in this shit, and here I am fighting it while my mom is killing herself with alcohol and my sisters think I've joined a goddamn gang." Faith's voice cracked, and she swallowed hard against the tears that were threatening to spill. "All I've wanted is for things to make sense. Is that so damn hard to ask?"_

"_You have reason to be angry." Amelia's face was a neutral mask. _

"_Damn straight I do! My mom hits me. When she's drunk, she hits me; she yells at me; fuck, she's burned me with cigarettes and nobody even blinks. She takes every chance she can to tell me what a fuck-up I am, but the second she wakes up from her hangover it's like none of it ever happened and I'm just being crazy." Faith's control broke entirely and the tears began to flow. "My sisters don't see it; they ask me why _I'm _mean to _her!_ This isn't how things are supposed to be. It's not. It's all so fucking wrong. There's nobody on my side, ever. Not once has anyone ever said, 'You know what? I think Faith's right on this.' They all side with each other, and I get screwed! Nothing I ever do is good enough. I don't think anything ever will be; they're that convinced that I'm some sort of terrible person."_

"_I'm sorry," Amelia said gently as Faith gave up even trying to articulate what she was feeling any further. Her voice was quiet but her tone was sincere. "I'm very sorry you've had to endure this, and I'm very sorry it will continue. Right now, though, I want you to listen to me, Faith. I want you to listen very closely. The world is not fair. Life is not a game bound by rules. We make the best we can of what is given to us. Now you can use all that you feel as a tool, or you can let it use you. The choice is yours, and it is very important. At the end of the day, all we have is our choices. All we are is what we choose to be. Do you understand?"_

_Faith shrugged. Amelia tentatively reached over and patted her shoulder. "I think that's enough training for tonight. You should go home, and think about what I said. Tomorrow, I will send a driver to pick you up at four thirty sharp from the school. It's time you began the next stage of training."_

"I suppose that was one of her patented Slayer-housetraining tricks," Faith muttered. "Push them to the max, and wait for them to crack and spill their squishy insides all over the floor."

"Did it work?" Giles asked.

"I told her everything. Well, everything that had happened within the two hours right before."

"But did you trust her?"

"Not yet. I just couldn't stay quiet anymore, though. Sometimes you just gotta spill, you know?"

"Are you just spilling right now?" he asked. It was the last question she had expected to hear from him.

"Does it matter?"

"If there is a distinction from the normal sharing of one's history, then yes."

"This is so Psych 101. It's beneath you, man." Faith rolled her eyes, and turned to stare back out the window.

Giles shrugged a shoulder. "You don't have to answer, of course. I was just wondering if you actually trust me, or if I'm simply the only person for you to tell in order to relieve the emotional pressure of holding these things back."

"Do you really have to ask?" Faith said; her tone was an incredulous whisper. "I mean… _really? _After everything that's happened, you still have to ask? Giles, after Angel, you're the one who's refused the hardest to give up on me, and I know it's cost you. Of course I trust you. I wouldn't be telling you all this if I didn't, urge to spill or no."

Giles was silent for a moment, then he nodded. "I'm honored," he said simply, meeting her eyes as he spoke. "Truly honored that you feel that way."

"It's a good thing there's nobody else on this road," Faith joked, trying to break the moment. She still felt uncomfortable with direct eye contact, let alone displays of sincere emotion. "You're not supposed to look away from the road when you're driving."

"I'll report myself immediately to the next Highway Patrolman I see," Giles agreed, turning his gaze back to the road.

"Promise?"

"On my honor."

Faith laughed. "That honest streak's gonna end up costing you, old man."

"I beg your pardon!"

"Come on, Giles. 'Late middle-aged man' just doesn't have the same ring to it."

"I suppose you're right. Make it up to me by telling me what happened next."

Faith shrugged, and picked at a hangnail until it bled. "Can't I just skip this part?"

"Why don't you just tell it now and get it over with?"

Faith didn't say anything for a long time. The silence grew longer and heavier, and she began to squirm.

"Fine. I guess the next part is that I dropped out of high school, and shit kinda went downhill from there."


	5. Chapter 5

See first section for disclaimer and overarching notes.

"Ronnie" as Faith's first boyfriend is mentioned in canon: in episode 7 of season 3 ("Revelations"), Faith lists her ex-boyfriends as "Ronnie, deadbeat. Steve, klepto. Kenny, drummer." Please note that I've never done drugs of any description in my life, so the bit about reactions during the scene with him is based entirely on hearsay from former classmates. Eavesdropping is a marvelous thing. I highly recommend it when you're trying to flesh out characters and scenes.

For lack of any better way to keep weaving information from the past in, we're sticking with the "Faith telling Giles" dynamic. I prefer it to journaling, because, as someone who keeps a diary and has since the age of 10, the things you'll tell another person are very different from the things you'll write about. I generally provide a lot more information in a narrative, since it's for another person, than I would ever write in a journal, which is for myself. I also think that it helps to show how far she's come in the 10 years since the end of the show, as well as how far she still has left to go.

If you're reading this and enjoying it, please do review or send a private message. If you have any questions or criticism, too, I'd love to hear that as well.

Thanks and enjoy!

… … …

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought that education was compulsory at least until age sixteen," Giles said.

Faith rolled her eyes. "It's possible. It helps if you get suspended and just don't go back. Eventually they turn it into an expulsion, and you couldn't go back even if you wanted to."

"I see. And how did you manage that?"

"Oh, I dunno… let me count the ways." She tilted her head back, watching the road from under her eyelids. "It's not like I was a model student. I wasn't even barely passable. Throw in some fights and general absence of a give-a-damn, and the only thing I wonder is why it didn't happen sooner. Then again, I was pretty good about tallying my odds. Didn't usually go overboard."

"Usually?"

"The time that finally did me in, I put a guy in the hospital. I was already in trouble at school for other reasons, but I just lost it."

"Why did you do that?"

"He deserved it."

_The cold weather came early that year. Faith wandered down Massachusetts Avenue, watching tourists and locals alike wrapped up in heavy winter jackets, huddling into doorways out of the bitter wind. Her own threadbare sweater did little to combat the chill, but she walked briskly and that helped a little._

"_Shouldn't you be in school?" a bookstore clerk asked as she ducked inside. Faith shrugged at him. _

"_I'm homeschooled."_

_He said nothing as she made her way to the magazine section, and sat down in a little corner. She stayed there for hours, flipping aimlessly through magazines, reading a couple of books from the teen section, and generally drawing little attention to herself. It was warm there, and that was all she cared about. As long as she didn't make noise or mess up the displays, the store clerks would leave her to her own devices. _

_"Are you sure you shouldn't be in school?" the store clerk asked her around 2 pm. "You look awfully young to be out wandering around."_

_"I said I was homeschooled," Faith told him. "Didn't you catch that?"_

_"Yeah, I heard you. But I don't believe it. I've seen you coming out of the high school before. My brother's a junior there. You might know him. Ronnie Abrams?" _

_Faith shrugged. "Doesn't ring a bell. Sorry."_

_"It doesn't matter. The point is I've seen you there, when I've picked him up. You should really be there. School's important."_

_She rolled her eyes. "Only if you expect to get anywhere in life."_

_"What, you don't?"_

_"Not really."_

_"Why?"_

_"Let's see... Not very smart, not very pretty, total loser, Mom's an alcoholic, Dad's dead - yeah, I got so much going for me that I'm just the epitome of 'recipe for success'. Aren't you supposed to be selling shit to people?"_

_The clerk sighed and patted her on the shoulder. "Yeah, probably. But you know what? Technically nobody's supposed to be in here unless they're buying. I pretty much figure that if you were going to be buying anything, it'd be a better jacket, so since neither of us is doing what we're supposed to, let's call it even?"_

_"Fine."_

_"Do you need anything?"_

_"Why are you asking?"_

_"You just look lonely. I try to help where I can. It's good for the karma."_

_"Karma?"_

_"Cosmic justice. Get back what you put out; you know, balance."_

_Faith snorted. "Good luck with that," she said, getting to her feet. "I'd better bail anyway."_

_"Next time you come in here, try not to make it during school hours. We'll get majorly in trouble if we host truants; the cops come in here often enough on their breaks that we could have problems. You could get in a lot of trouble, too."_

_"Sure. Whatever."_

_Faith left, wandering aimlessly down the road, making a mental note to keep her eyes open for Ronnie Abrams on the rare occasion she bothered to stick around campus for more than an hour or two._

_The next couple of days, Faith decided to go to school like a good little girl. Granted, it was mainly because Amelia had ordered her to, but she was at least complicit in the decision. Gym class was pretty much the only class Faith ever did well in. It was co-opted that week for self-defense training, which made her roll her eyes. If anyone in the school could defend themselves, Faith knew she was at the top of the list. Still, she figured that she may as well put in an appearance in case they happened to mention anything that might be useful for fighting the undead, or fending off her mother's creepy new boyfriend, Jeremy. _

_Things had been deeply uneasy around the small apartment since Jeremy had moved in with them. He stank the house up with his cigars, and he was in and out of the house at bizarre hours of the night and day. He gave Faith the heebie jeebies, but she couldn't figure out why._

_Hope had evidently broken up with her own boyfriend, judging by her perpetually teary eyes and sniffles and the fact that she was suddenly around a whole lot more. Grace had grown quiet and withdrawn. Well, more so. She didn't even pretend to read anymore. She just sat on her bunk bed and stared at the ceiling everyday like a zombie. She was having screaming nightmares lately, too, which had Faith deeply worried._

_Nobody was telling her anything, though. She had already decided not to interfere unless they told her what was going on. Learning how to slay was wearing her down, and she needed all of her energy and focus to beat down the undead. And so she found herself actually sitting through a class on self-defense._

_They had mixed all the PE classes together, regardless of grade level, as long as they had it during the same period. For some reason the teachers thought it would be a good idea to have the older students "attack" the younger students - Mrs. Faraday gave some bullshit excuse about how most attackers would probably be bigger and more powerful than their victims. Faith knew that wasn't true. She had been pretty seriously knocked around by petite little 5-foot-nothing vampires who looked like they'd been anorexic in life. She had a hard time believing that size was a necessary prerequisite for strength._

_Nevertheless, she still found herself teamed up with a junior who was at least twice her weight and had almost a foot of height on her. He was clearly an athlete, solidly built with clearly defined muscles and the unmistakable swagger of someone who was aware of just how fit they were. He wrapped an arm around her in the modified chokehold that the "attacking" students were being asked to use on the younger ones. And then his other hand squeezed her butt, stroking her body in a way that made her feel completely revolted and violated._

_In three seconds flat, she had him on the floor, on his back, and was whaling on his face with all the furious force she could muster. Under the circumstances, that was rather a lot – she could feel his jawbone break beneath her fist on the first punch._

_"Faith! _Faith! Faith Lehane!_" People were shouting at her, and hands were grabbing at her, but she just kept punching him. _

_"Don't ever touch me again! Don't ever touch any girl that way again! Do you fucking hear me?" she screamed as her blows connected solidly with his face. "Never. Ever. Again. Fucker!" _

_Three football players and their coach finally managed to pull her off of him. One of them sat on her right arm to keep her from getting up again. "Faith, calm the fuck down. Seriously," he growled, pinning her other arm. On the ground, he had the upper hand._

_"What the hell got into you?" the principal demanded when she was sitting in his office twenty minutes later. Her "attacker" had been sent to the hospital in an ambulance after he had completely passed out. At the least, he wasn't going to get out of there without his jaw being wired and some massive bruising to the face._

_"I don't know," Faith muttered. She refused to meet Principal Jones' gaze. "I just snapped."_

_"Faith, this is entirely unacceptable behavior. In light of your other problems, I'm wondering just what to do with you. Now, I know you're troubled, but we have a Zero-Tolerance policy. You're going to have to come up with a much better reason than 'I just snapped' for me to not expel you on the spot and call the cops. You're not getting out of here without at least a suspension, but if you cooperate, we can minimize the damage to your future."_

_"He grabbed my ass," Faith said quietly. She felt humiliated whispering that into the silence. _

_"Faith, look at me." _

_There was silence for about three minutes. Principal Jones was clearly waiting for her to comply, and the longer she stalled, the longer it would take before she could go. Reluctantly, Faith raised her eyes to meet Principal Jones'._

_"I understand that that was a violation, but your reaction was incredibly extreme. I need you to answer a question, and I need an honest answer. Has someone else done that to you, to make you react so violently? Are you being abused?"_

_There it was. The dreaded question, "Are you being abused?" Maybe it wasn't sexually, but it was happening. All the fear of the years forced Faith's emotional walls to slam down. There had to be an answer: something, anything, that she could tell the principal that would get her off the hook and keep her and her sisters from being split up._

_"Not recently," she whispered, steeling herself to lie through her teeth and keep her most open, innocent expression plastered to her features. Principal Jones absolutely had to believe that she was telling the truth to him, or else her life would descend into even more chaos than it was already in. If she got taken away, she'd lose her sisters, her training, her time around Lydia and Donovan, who were shaping up to be her only friends..._

_"What happened?" he asked, his entire expression one of rapt concern. "Who has been hurting you, Faith?"_

_"Mom had a boyfriend. He was a total creeper. They're not together anymore. She didn't know. Nobody knows. You can't tell anyone!"_

_Principal Jones sighed. "I'm legally obligated to report anything that I hear that causes me to know about or suspect the abuse of any student here. But you can trust me. I promise."_

_Faith bit her lip, and shook her head. "That's not good enough. It has to stay a secret. We can't be taken away. My sisters and I can't be split up. I can't tell you anything else. Please don't report this." Her voice cracked, and she hated herself for it. She swallowed hard against the lump forming in her throat. "We're okay now. It's over, it's not happening anymore. There's no reason for anyone else to get involved. Please."_

_"Faith, the person who hurt you needs to be reported. He needs to be made to account for what he did, and he needs to suffer the consequences."_

_"No. I can't..." Faith got up and ran out of the office, ran off the campus grounds, and kept running until she found herself in a part of Boston she didn't recognize at all._

_"Hey, girl!" a teenaged guy shouted, and ran alongside her for a few seconds. "Want to buy some weed?"_

_She stopped and glared at him. He looked familiar. She couldn't figure out why. "Who are you?" she asked, scrubbing at her cheeks with the back of her hand._

_"Name's Ronnie. Ronnie Abrams." He paused and looked at her, taking in her rumpled appearance and obvious distress. "Tell you what, sit down. First joint's on me."_

_"I don't smoke."_

_Ronnie snorted. "Don't be such a baby. It won't hurt you. Might even help you relax." He sat down on a doorstoop. They were in one of the worst parts of town, worse even than Faith's own neighborhood. Garbage littered the street, and the entire area stank of urine and mold. She said nothing, continuing to watch him as he pulled out a twisted piece of paper and a lighter. Then the name clicked._

_"Your brother works in the bookstore on Mass Ave," she said._

_"How do you know David?"_

_"I was in there the other day. I skipped school, and it started raining. Needed somewhere warm to go."_

_"Yeah, sounds about right. I only go there when I need to hit him up for some cash. Here," he held the burning twist of paper out to her. "Take a couple hits of that, should calm you right down."_

_Faith took it and looked at it. The smoke coming from the burning end was pungent, sour and sweet all at the same time. She wrinkled her nose, but took a few inhales from the non-burning end. Her lungs protested, and she fell into a massive coughing fit._

_"Takes some getting used to," Ronnie told her, and took the joint back. "So what happened?"_

_"Beat the shit out of one of Central's hockey players," Faith said, sitting next to him. "Principal wanted to know why, threatened expulsion and cops if I didn't have a really good reason."_

_"Did you?" He handed the joint back to Faith, who took a few more breaths. She could feel the smoke working its magic, easing her mind and making everything take on a slower, more ponderous quality._

_"He grabbed my ass," she said, and started laughing. It seemed almost funny now. Her laughter grew hysterical, and quickly turned to tears._

_"Whoa, girl. What the fuck's tripping you so hard?"_

_"My life," she said simply. "It's enough to get anyone committed."_

_Ronnie shrugged. "Ever thought of dropping out?"_

_"Yeah, sure. But it's not like I have any options that are just waiting for me to leave so I can get to them."_

_He shrugged again. "You'll find something."_

_"Sure thing."_

_They sat in silence for a few minutes, passing the joint back and forth between them until it was gone. "I need a drink," Ronnie said then, getting to his feet. "You want to come with?"_

_"I don't drink."_

_"Like you don't smoke?" he asked, laughing. "Come on."_

_"No, like I really don't drink," Faith said. Even though her brain felt like marshmallows and everything had taken on a soft, almost fuzzy edge, the idea of alcohol caused her to hit a steel barrier somewhere in her mind._

_"Alcoholic in the family. Got it."_

_"How the hell did you know?"_

_"My cousin acts the same way. His dad died from alcohol poisoning. Now he won't touch the shit. It's not all bad, you know. It can help you relax."_

_"Yeah, and it can help me turn into an abusive bitch."_

_"Well, I could be wrong, but it sounds like you already did that to Mr. Hockey player just fine on your own without the booze."_

_Faith opened her mouth to argue, but she couldn't. "What kind of drink?" she asked. _

_"Come along, my lady," Ronnie said grandly, holding a hand out to her. "I'll steer you 'round the curves. You might even like it."_

_She didn't really remember much of the night before when she woke with nausea and a splitting headache the next morning. Her lungs burned, and she coughed fiercely. She was on someone's floor, using a pile of clothes and papers as an improvised pillow. Ronnie was still passed out on the bed. A small window near the ceiling let in enough light that she could tell it was late morning, and a small digital clock read 10:14. Getting up carefully, she debated where she should go first. She had obviously missed training with Amelia, and would catch hell for that. She hadn't gone home, so a particularly nasty round of fighting was in store. School… she shrugged and picked up her backpack. The worst they were going to do was suspend her. At least if she checked in, she might be able to catch a break from Amelia._

_Walking in a straight line was difficult, and she swayed unsteadily on her feet as she made her way to school. About halfway there, she paused to throw up in the bushes. It made her feel a little better, but more than anything she just wanted to crawl home and get a shower. "Except that the water's probably been shut off again," she muttered to herself. The first had passed without the bill being paid. It had become a painfully familiar routine._

_Campus security spotted her before she could climb the fence to sneak onto school grounds. She recognized the two guards, Johann and Michael were regulars who did shifts at some of the nightclubs in the nice part of town for extra cash._

"_Come with me," Johann said, grabbing hold of her arm. His grip was firm, and she knew there'd be no escaping, but he didn't hurt her. Faith groaned, but followed obediently as he led her to the principal's office. He gestured for her to take a seat, and waved at the secretary. _

"_He'll be with you shortly," she told Faith after Johann had left. "Just sit down, relax."_

_The wait wasn't very long according to the clock, but to Faith it felt like it would never end. Finally, the principal came into the general office area._

"_I'm glad you came back, Faith," Principal Jones said, holding the door open for her. "Please, sit down."_

_She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously before taking the proffered seat. "Why are you doing this?"_

"_Doing what?"_

"_Being nice to me. I fucked up. I beat a guy's face in and sent him to the hospital. Yesterday you were talking about cops and expulsion and social services, and now today it's all "Welcome back, Faith. Come in, have a cookie." What gives?"_

"_I haven't actually offered you a cookie," Principal Jones said seriously. Faith pointed at the jar of lollipops on the corner of his desk and raised an eyebrow. _

"_Close enough. Don't dodge the question."_

_Principal Jones sighed, and looked down at his folded hands. He seemed harmless enough. None of the assholes she'd ever met had been balding, overweight, middle-aged men with photos of their wife and kids plastered all over the place. She dared to relax just a little bit._

"_Several of your classmates have come forward to report sexual harassment by Mr. Rinaldo. While we can't condone your violent outburst, he was not innocent in the matter, either. He is being suspended, beginning with his release from the hospital this afternoon. You are also suspended. We can't have students taking things into their own hands. Both of your suspensions will be transmuted into expulsions if you don't meet certain requirements, however. I have spoken with his parents regarding his terms. I phoned your mother, but haven't received a response. You will need to have her sign these documents stating that she is aware of the terms, and will abide by them as well."_

"_What are they?"_

"_Your grades have to come up. You will be expected to keep up with all assigned work, to be turned in on your first day back and all exams to be made up the same day. Once your suspension ends, your attendance will be consistent, and you will arrive early. Not on time, early. I want you here half an hour before the bell rings every day. During that time you will meet with the school psychologist to discuss what is going on at home and in your personal life, especially as it relates to your academic performance. Resistance, fabrication, or other refusal to cooperate, as she determines it to be in her sole discretion, will result in expulsion. Any deviation from the agreement with result in immediate expulsion unless we have seen significant mitigating factors."_

"_So basically, do what you say for as long as you say it, or go to hell?"_

"_I'm concerned about you Faith. This is for your welfare."_

"_Yeah, sure. Go to hell."_

_She left the papers on his desk and got up to leave. He followed her._

"_Leave me alone!"_

"_Don't you understand how important this is?"_

"_I understand fine."_

"_Faith, if you walk out of here, you _will _be arrested for what you did to Mr. Rinaldo. His parents are out for your blood. They will press charges. You will lose. Do you want to go to juvenile prison?"_

_Faith froze. "Are you threatening me?" she demanded, turning around to face him._

"_No, I'm just telling you. They've agreed, barely, not to press charges if you agree to the conditions of your suspension. If you don't accept, I can't help you. I'd be required to testify about what I know, and what I know alone would put you away."_

"_What makes you so sure?"_

"_Come on, Faith. Don't delude yourself. There were fifty witnesses to what you did to him. He was hospitalized overnight with massive trauma, while you walked out fine. You've exhibited truant behavior, skipping classes, arriving late, and apparently taking up drug use-"_

"_You don't know that-"_

_"I can smell__ marijuana! Even if that doesn't get brought up in court, the rest of it will. Being troubled is only an excuse, and it's not one the courts will accept. Get it together. Accept the offer, or don't, but understand the consequences."_

_Even though she hated him for it, she knew he was right. Her expression was stormy as she nodded curtly. "Grades. Attendance. Psychologist. Got it. Anything else?"_

_He held out the papers to her. "I need these signed and returned to me in person. By your mother."_

_Faith swallowed hard. "I can't do that."_

"_Why not?" he asked. He had clearly lost patience. _

"_Because. I just can't."_

"_I need a better reason than that."_

"_I don't live with her."_

"_Who do you live with?"_

_Faith shrugged. She couldn't think of anyone who she would rather have know about this. If he didn't want them returned in person, it wouldn't matter. _

"_I need an answer."_

"_I don't have one. I live where I live. I don't go home a lot, since…" she trailed off. To continue would mean that she'd have to give a name to her abuser, and while she didn't want to tell the truth, she really didn't want to get caught in a lie._

"_Come back to my office."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because you're going to think of someone who can come in and sign these. A grandparent, neighbor, someone."_

_Unable to see any way out of the mess, Faith shuffled along behind him. _

"I was totally stuck between a rock and a hard place. He wouldn't let up, and I couldn't say anything."

"How did you resolve it?"

"He tricked me."

"_Excuse me for a moment, Faith," Principal Jones said after exhausting suggestions: Father? Dead. Grandparent? Dead or not talking to us. Aunt? Don't have any. Uncle? None of those either. Neighbor? Don't know 'em. Family friend? Don't have 'em. _

"_Where are you going?"_

"_I need to use the restroom." He turned and looked into the lobby. "Hey, Johann, I know you're on break, but can you make sure Faith doesn't leave?"_

"_Sure." Johann moved to hulk in the door, idly blowing on his coffee to cool it._

"_I don't need to be kept under guard. I'm not dangerous," Faith mumbled._

"_See, me? I agree. I think you're a messed-up kid, but I don't think you're _bad_. But most other people? If they thought for a second that their precious babies might be in a place where someone like you was running loose, they'd trip. We don't need more problems here than we got already. Least of all from overprotective parents," he said simply._

_Faith nodded, but avoided looking at him._

"_What's wrong, kid?"_

"_You wouldn't understand."_

_Johann laughed. "You obviously don't know the first thing about me. I was in a gang half my life. Got scars you wouldn't believe. I was locked up a while, released for good behavior. Started working security when I got myself straightened out. Anything stupid you've done, I've got a story that trumps it, hands down. Come on, what's the problem?"_

"_I have to have someone sign some papers. We don't really know anybody, though, and Mom's out of the question."_

"_Why's that?"_

"_Because she's part of the problem."_

_She could feel Johann watching her closely, and hugged herself, instinctively covering up the burn scars on her arms with her hands. _

"_She hurt you?" he asked. He had obviously noted the motion._

_Faith shrugged, staring at the linoleum. If expressions could wreak havoc, she would have set the room on fire. _

_Johann snorted. _"_Yeah, see, I get that. You don't want to say anything, because you're scared of getting taken away, right? But the way I see it, you're going to get taken away anyway. Either you talk, and get taken away by social services, or you don't and since you can't find anyone to sign your papers, you get taken away by cops because the kid you beat on? _Damn _are his parents _pissed_. His Dad's a lawyer, too."_

"_So I'm basically screwed, is that what you're saying?"_

"_I'm saying you might want to consider letting the cat out of the bag. It's not the worst that could happen. Might even work out to be pretty damn good."_

_They sat in silence for about fifteen more minutes, before Principal Jones came back. Following him was a petite woman. She looked to be in her mid-thirties, and was wearing a tailored suit and her hair in a bun._

"_Thank you, Johann. Faith, this is Charlotte Lund. She's a social worker."_

"_It's a pleasure to meet you, Faith. I hope we can become good friends," Charlotte said, holding her hand out to shake. Faith eyed it warily, and didn't return the gesture._

"_Why the hell is she here?" she demanded, glaring at Principal Jones._

"_You have no family, no family friends, nobody over the age of eighteen who can sign off on our agreement. Charlotte can."_

"_I didn't agree to this."_

_Johann cleared his throat and everyone turned to look at him. He locked eyes with Faith for a minute. "My break's up, I'm heading out. Make good choices, kid," he said, turning to leave._

"_I told you I was obligated to report allegations or suspicions of abuse. I did, and Child Protective Services assigned her to the case. You can cooperate or not, but she's already been assigned. At least if you cooperate, Mr. Rinaldo's parents will have to back down."_

"_You're a manipulative son of a bitch," Faith growled. Then she sighed, closing her eyes and tilting her head back. "Fine. What do I have to do?"_

"_I'll take it from here, Mr. Jones," Charlotte said quietly. "Why don't we go for a walk, Faith?"_

"_Fine." Faith got up and stormed out of the room. Charlotte easily kept pace with her, despite the fact that Faith was moving as quickly as she could without all-out running. She wasn't even breathing hard. _

"_Why don't you tell me about what happened yesterday?" Charlotte asked. She sounded so reasonable. _

"_I'm sure he already did. Why do you need to hear it again?"_

"_Because I don't care what he told me. I care what you think happened."_

_Faith stopped short, and spun around. "Let's get a couple of things clear here. I only agreed so that I don't go to jail. Okay? I don't want to talk to you, I don't even want to see you. And you can quit pretending to care, because we both know that my life just a job to you. But to me, it's serious, and I don't like other people messing around with it. Got it?"_

"_Have you eaten?"_

"_What?" Faith was thrown by the reasonable question, delivered in a perfectly calm, unruffled voice. _

"_You look tired, and Principal Jones tells me you were wearing those clothes yesterday. He also said that you don't go home very often. So I'm wondering if you get meals with any regularity. Hence my question. Have you eaten yet today?"_

_Faith looked down. "No, I haven't."_

"_I haven't either. Let's get lunch, and we can talk there. Okay?"_

"_Yeah, sure. Fine."_

_Charlotte led Faith to a small deli, where she bought a couple of sandwiches. Then they headed to a park and sat underneath a tree. Faith was ravenous, and devoured hers quickly. Charlotte watched with dispassionate interest as she ate her own rather more slowly._

"_Feel better?" she asked. Faith nodded. "Good." She gestured to Faith's arms. "How did you get so many scars and bruises?"_

"_Life's rough, you know?"_

"_You're going to have to be more specific. After all, __I'm here to find out how rough."_

"_What, you think you can just waltz into my life and expect me to tell you everything?"_

"_Not at all. But I do have a job to do, and you don't seem like the type to appreciate the indirect approach."_

"_Damn straight."_

"_Is it just you and your mother at home?"_

"_No. My two sisters are there, too."_

"_How old are they?"_

"_Gracie's nine. Hope's sixteen."_

"_Do you have a good relationship with them?"_

"_Nah. I'm kind of a loner."_

"_Even at home?"_

"_Especially at home. They keep me out of the loop. At least kids at school don't hide things from me."_

"_What do your sisters hide?"_

"_Apparently Hope had a boyfriend. Gracie accidentally spilled. Something else is going on lately; Gracie's all quiet and doesn't talk to anyone. I think Hope knows what's up, but she won't tell me."_

"_And it's just you three and your mother?"_

"_Mom's boyfriend moved in two months ago."_

"_What's he like?"_

"_Loud. Smokes these awful cigars that make the whole house stink. Never quite know when he'll be home; it's never the same."_

"_Do he and your mother get along? No problems in the house?"_

_Faith shrugged. "They do okay, I guess."_

"_You're hedging."_

"_I'm not around enough to know what Jeremy's like with Mom. And even when I am around, it's not often that both of them are. I kinda plan it that way."_

"_What about you, any boyfriends, confidantes, close friends?"_

_Faith shrugged again. "I know a couple people."_

"_Who are they?"_

"_Lydia and Donovan. And Ronnie, I guess."_

"_I need more details."_

_Faith snorted. What could she say? "Lydia and Donovan are dating. We hang out a few nights a week. Ronnie's some guy in the neighborhood."_

"_What do you do when you hang out with Lydia and Donovan? Do they know Ronnie?"_

"_No. We just hang. Watch movies, mostly. Old horror flicks. _Dracula, _stuff like that."_

"_Where do you go when you're not at school?"_

"_Anywhere."_

"_Are you ready to tell me about yesterday yet?"_

"_He grabbed my ass. I kicked his. The end."_

"_Why did it enrage you so much?"_

"_Wouldn't you have been pissed too?"_

"_I wouldn't have broken his jaw."_

_Faith shrugged. Charlotte pressed on, clearly unwilling to let the subject drop._

"_A girl doesn't get that kind of anger without something happening to her. Has that happened to you before?"_

"_Not that."_

"_Principal Jones said you said something about your mother's boyfriend?"_

"_Not this one."_

"_Which one?"_

_Faith shrugged. "I don't want to talk about it."_

"_You're going to have to."_

"She'd only let me dodge for so long, and she was good at reading the truth out of my lies. I was so furious that when I went to training that night, I almost didn't need Amelia to back me up with the crossbow."

"That's impressive."

"She thought so, too. I was early to our next training, and when she got there, I was fighting a group of four. Dusted three of them on my own, then she took care of the last. She was almost impressed enough not to ask where the hell I'd been the night before."

"_I see you've taken my advice to channel your anger into your slaying. Might I inquire as to what's on your mind?" Amelia asked, after shooting the fourth vampire in the back. He collapsed into a dust heap at her feet as she turned to look at Faith._

"_No."_

"_Perhaps I ought to rephrase that. Sit down, and tell me what happened."_

_Faith glared mutinously, but sat down on a tombstone. "I got suspended from school."_

"_I see. What prompted this?"_

"_She broke a hockey player's face," Lydia said, laughing. Amelia silenced her with a gesture._

"_I asked Faith, Lydia. Be silent."_

"_What she said," Faith shrugged. Why retell the story, when it could be summed up so succinctly?_

"_Why did you do that?"_

"_Because he grabbed my ass, okay?"_

"_Why didn't you simply report him?"_

"_Because I was already pissed off."_

"_And now you're angry about being suspended as well?"_

"_No. I'm angry because in order to not get expelled and to keep his parents from pressing charges, I had to agree to the principal's fucked up plea bargain. Except that my mom is so absolutely useless that there was no way to get her to sign off on it, so the principal called in a social worker."_

"_The principal called in a social worker for some paperwork? I find that very hard to believe. Faith, listen to me. There is nothing that we can't work through together, but in order to do that, you have to be open and candid with me."_

"_Well, what if I don't want to be?"_

"_Then your problems don't get solved. To be a Potential Slayer is to be alone, but it doesn't mean that anyone expects you to get by without any help at all. That's why the Watchers' Council exists."_

_Faith groaned, covering her face with her hands to muffle a scream of frustration. Then she sat up straight and looked at Amelia. "Fine. When I…broke his face, the principal called me to his office. He said that, in order for the cops not to get called and my ass not to get expelled, I needed a good reason for what I'd done. I told him what I just told you – he grabbed my ass – and he asked what you did. Then he asked if I was being…you know…at home. So I lied. I said I had been, by one of my mom's exes. He wanted to report it, and I just left. I came back today, and he offered me the bargain. I agreed. He wanted Mom to sign the papers and bring them in personally. I can't have her do that, she'd fall over drunk and all the secrets would be out. So I said that wasn't possible, and we went through the list of people whose signatures he'd accept, but none of them were a go. And then the social worker he'd already called about my lie came in. He said that she could sign the papers, but I had to cooperate. So now I'm fucking stuck. Stuck with an agreement that leaves me trapped, stuck with a helicopter social worker who's hell-bent on finding out who molested me when nobody did, and stuck killing vampires because if I do anything else about this, I'm liable to get locked up for all kinds of shit."_

_Amelia groaned. "Donovan, Lydia, go patrol elsewhere. I want you actually patrolling, not snogging in crypts. I will check in with you. Go now."_

_The two other teens shared a look and scurried away, giggling, without saying another word. Amelia sat down on the tombstone across from Faith._

"_When you lie to hide other people's shortcomings, all that you do is hurt yourself," Amelia said. "Why didn't you ask me to sign the paperwork?"_

"_Yeah, like you would have been all that willing to after I missed training without a reason."_

"_You're still in trouble for that, make no mistake," Amelia said sternly. "But with all that could hang in the balance… As far as matters of the mundane world go, if they look to be able to interfere with our mission, I will do what I can to clear the obstacles. You will find that with the Council backing me I have quite a lot of resources at my disposal, so long as the mundane authorities do not get in the way first. Now that there's a social worker involved, our options are much more limited."_

"_Well, gee. If I'd have known, maybe I wouldn't have screwed up so bad. Next time tell me these things!"_

"_I just did. Next time trust me. Honestly, Faith, you are so terribly ironic."_

"_What does an Alanis Morrissette song have to do with this?"_

_Amelia sighed. "It has nothing to do with a song. __You are the most faithless young woman I have ever run into, let alone attempted to train. I shudder to think why the powers of the Choosing spell have coalesced so strongly around you. Do you really think so little of other people?"_

"_It's not like they've given me all that much to work with." Faith got to her feet and stormed out of the cemetery. Amelia watched her go, but didn't say anything else or try to follow her._

_She made it all the way home in less than twenty minutes, fury powering her steps and cutting the time it took nearly in half. Faith arrived just as an ambulance took off screaming down the street. It looked as though it had left from the neighbors' place._

"_What happened next door?" she asked as she walked inside. The whole house was deathly silent. "Hope? Grace? Mom?"_

_The bedrooms were empty, and an eerie silence blanketed the entire building. Faith felt her skin creeping as she wandered through all the rooms, looking for any sign of life. While she was in her bedroom, she heard a noise out in the living room and grabbed a broom, ready to wield it like a club against the intruder._

_She peeked around the corner of the hall, and jumped when she saw her elderly neighbor sitting down on the couch with her bag of knitting. The broom clattered to the floor._

"_Mrs. Landon?" she asked. "What are you doing here?"_

"_Oh, Faith, didn't you go in the ambulance with your sisters? Little Gracie said something had happened to your mother, and asked me to wait here to let your mother's partner know what happened."_

_Faith swallowed hard. "I wasn't here. I didn't know. What happened?"_

"_Gracie didn't tell me. Just asked me to wait here and tell Jeremy that they were going to the hospital."_

"_Do you know which one?"_

"_Whichever one's nearest, I suppose. Can I do anything for you, Faith?"_

"_No. No, I'm fine. I'd better be going." Faith turned and stumbled out of the apartment, wandering aimlessly in the streets of Boston. She kept turning Mrs. Landon's words over and over in her brain: _Something happened. To your mother. Didn't you go with your sisters? Asked me to tell Jeremy.

_A cloud drifted across the waxing crescent moon and Faith did the only thing she could think to do: she went back to the cemetery. She needed to kick some ass._

Faith stopped talking abruptly as a sound caught her attention. "Stop the car."

"We're in the middle of the high-

"Stop the car, Giles. It's not like we're going to cause an accident."

Obligingly, he applied the brakes.

"Did you hear that?" she asked. It was the faintest of sounds, but she felt certain she should recognize it.

"Hear what?"

"There's something over there…" she turned to peer out of her window, picking up the rifle. "Something that shouldn't be here."


	6. Chapter 6

See first section for disclaimer and overarching notes.

Merry Christmas! Sorry I've been kind of AWOL; I had to execute the world's fastest move, during National Novel Writing Month no less, and work got kind of intense there. But I'm back, and here's your Christmas update. :)

Also, while I'm not a massive review-chaser, it is nice to get them. If you're reading this and enjoying it (or not) drop me a note to say why. Feedback is good, and it helps a lot since the story is still in a really fluid state right now. I'm curious to see what is and isn't working for people, because while I'll definitely cover everything I've already planned to, sometimes people's suggestions can give interesting hints for subplots and other places to visit en route.

So pull up a chair and get comfy. It's time to see some of the story's "present", before jumping back into Faith's pre-Slayer-Calling life.

* * *

… … …

"Faith, I don't hear anything-" Giles began. She waved a hand at him impatiently to shush him, all senses focused on figuring out what it was. She heard it again and focused as hard as she could on it, opening the car door to remove the muffling effect of steel and glass.

"It's a person," she said quietly. "At least I think it is... There, do you hear it?"

Giles nodded this time. "It sounds like a child. Crying."

"Better go check it out." Faith cocked the rifle and climbed out of the vehicle. Giles wasn't far behind her as she scurried across the desolate freeway and over to one of the piles of rubble decorating the right lane's shoulder. The crying grew louder, broken up only by gasping hiccups. "It's gotta be a young kid," she whispered, handing Giles the rifle. "Cover me. I don't want to scare it."

"What if it's not a child? You'll be unarmed against God-knows-," Giles began, but stopped as Faith rolled her eyes.

"Just cover me."

Giles took the gun and nodded. Faith turned, rubbed dust on her hands to dry them, and hoisted herself up and over the pile of rocks. She didn't wait for Giles to follow, but continued scrambling over until she could see the kid.

He was probably about six years old, and was sitting hunched in the dust, almost blending in against the rubble in his gray clothing.

"Hey, kid, it's not safe to be out here," she said, dropping lightly down beside him. "Something could happen to you."

"My Ma...My Ma.. My Mommy is in trouble," he wailed, lurching forward and clutching Faith's leg for dear life. She had to fight the impulse to shake the runt off. "We were lost, and monsters hurt her, and she won't wake up. Please help me!"

"Well, at least you're a well-trained little rodent," Faith grumbled. "Come on, get up. Where's your mom, kiddo? Can't help her if you don't show me where she is."

The kid staggered to his feet, and took off just as Giles hopped down over the rubble pile to land beside Faith.

"After you," he said. She shrugged and set off after the child, who wisely went around the other piles, rather than trying to go over them. They wandered for about five minutes before Faith could hear something slobbering and crunching. The little boy huddled down behind a pile of rocks, and curled into the fetal position.

"I'm guessing the woman didn't make it through alive," she whispered to Giles as she stopped and pulled a hunting knife out from a sheath on her calf. "Stay with the kid. Anything happens, get back to the car, and don't wait for me."

She didn't wait for Giles to respond before she crept around the rubble pile and took a quick glance at the creature. It was a lurid shade of green, with terribly clashing fuchsia markings down its back. It was in slight profile, so she could see the horribly distended belly and ferocious ox-head that told her exactly what she was facing. She had seen several of these monsters back in Boston; her neighbor, a dabbler in Wicca and demon-hunting, had told her that they were called Gaki in Japan. Apparently they were plagued by hunger and thirst so severe, they would hunt and kill anything, but people were their favorite prey.

Faith flinched as she watched the Gaki use a wickedly sharp claw to rip an arm off a mangled corpse that she could only surmise was the boy's mother, devouring it with gusto that made her skin crawl. She hadn't had to fight one hand to talon before; she had been able to burn down the nest that the duo in Boston had made while they were asleep inside it. She just hoped they were as sluggish as they looked like they might be. She really didn't like the idea of facing one off armed only with a knife, but these things had to be taken out or else they could easily demolish an entire city's worth of humans. Not to mention that they bred like bunnies.

The Gaki was still chomping down, ripping the dead woman's flesh from her bones and smacking its blubbery lips with each bite. Faith had to fight not to gag as she crept up behind the creature and stabbed it in the back.

Dropping the arm it had been consuming, the Gaki swung one of its massive arms around and knocked Faith off her feet and into a pile of rubble. Her knife was still embedded in the creature's spine, but didn't seem to be causing much distraction to it, let alone actual injury.

"Come on, let's dance," she muttered at it, getting to her feet and bracing herself. The Gaki charged, and she dodged out of the way, spinning around and delivering a solid kick to the handle of the knife in its back; forcing the blade in clear to the hilt. The Gaki fell over, roaring in pain.

"Not so tough with your spinal cord severed, are ya?" she taunted, reaching down and retrieving the knife just before the Gaki got to its feet, and turned, swiping its massive talons at her. She managed to evade, but just barely. The edge of its claw caught her arm just above the elbow, ripping a long gash.

"Giles, where do I hit this fucker?" she shouted, backing up quickly as the demon charged her in a flurry of slashing claws.

"Someplace vulnerable!"

"Gee, that's helpful!"

"The face, Faith!" only Giles could ever manage to sound that exasperated while terrified for someone's life. She couldn't help grinning. Years passed, but he was still the same Watcher, she the same Slayer they had ever been.

She threw the hunting knife at the Gaki's face; catching it just beneath the eye. The knife was solidly embedded in the demon's cheek, which didn't stop it from reaching up and trying to pull it out, scratching itself with its own razor claws in the process. It gave up quickly after that, zeroing its sights on Faith once more.

"Giles, I need a weapon!"

He threw a small pistol at her. Clicking the safety off and aiming it in one smooth motion, she pumped the Gaki's chest full of bullets. It continued staggering forward, but its movements were uneven and jerky, and it finally collapsed in a wheezing heap on the rubble.

Faith retrieved her knife, wiped it off, and strapped it back to her leg before turning to climb back up the rubble to where Giles was still watching the kid.

"W-where's my Mama?" he whimpered.

"The monster killed her," Faith said bluntly. "You're lucky to be alive."

At the child's stricken expression, Giles glared at Faith. "You could try to be a little more delicate when delivering such news," he grumbled.

"And say what? Oh, terribly sorry, but your mother has gone to Heaven? You know I don't believe in that bullshit. I don't see any reason to jerk the kid around just to make him feel better. That never helps anyone."

"Speaking from personal experience, are you?"

"And so what if I am?" Faith shrugged, pushing her rising anger aside. This wasn't the time or the place. She was surprised by the force of her emotional reaction. "We need to find some people to dump Tiny Tot with, and get the hell out of here. The Hellmouth waits for no one."

"You can't run away from everything, Faith," Giles said quietly. She turned and walked away.

"Just watch me," she muttered. "I'm pretty damn good at it, and it's not like you could stop me if I didn't want to be stopped."

"If that's supposed to make me just give up on you, you're going to have to try harder than that!"

"How touching," another voice interrupted before Faith could retort. She and Giles both turned to see that, where the crying child had been a few moments ago, there stood a demon with matted, lanky hair, jaundiced, liver-spotted folds of skin hanging from its gaunt, skeletal frame, and massive tusks oozing some kind of green slime.

"Oh, this day just keeps getting better, doesn't it?" Faith said. "Two for the price of one. Let's go."

"The time has not yet come, Slayer. We're watching you, and when you least expect it, we will bring you to your fall," it said, and disappeared.

"Giles, what in the hell was that thing?"

"I have no idea."

"Got anything in your books that might know?"

"We'd best get back to the car and find out, hadn't we?"

Faith nodded, taking out her hunting knife and gesturing for Giles to go first. They moved quickly and efficiently back to the vehicle, and once they were safely back to driving at top speed along the deserted highway, Faith reached into the backseat and picked up a book at random. She flipped through the pages, looking for a picture that could indicate that she was on the right track.

A few minutes later, Giles took an off-ramp.

"Dude, where are you going?" she asked. She was pretty sure they were supposed to stay on the highway the entire ride. "Do we need gas or something?" She looked over, and saw that the gas meter was indicating a nearly full tank.

"We're stopping to visit an old friend," he muttered. "They have some of my books, and we need to know what we're up against before we get any surprises."

"I'm not going to have to kill this old friend if things get less than friendly, am I?" Faith asked warily. Given the generally spotted history of Slayers and Watchers alike, it was difficult to ever be sure who was trustworthy anymore. Assuming, of course, that it had ever been simple.

"I should hope not," Giles responded emphatically. "No, I think you'll be quite happy to see them. Even if the same can't be said of how they'll feel about seeing either of us."

Faith frowned at how cryptic he was being, but went back to hunting for pictures. She'd get answers soon enough, and she could wait until then.

A few more turns through the twisting, labyrinthine chaos that was every city in America these days, and they arrived at a large, military installation-style warehouse.

"Uh, Giles?"

"Just trust me."

"I was just going to ask, who the hell do we know who's still in the military and hasn't tried to kill us?"

"This isn't a military base," he answered simply. "It was, but it hasn't been for a very long time."

They pulled up to the gate, and a man's voice crackled over a radio. "And who might you be?"

"Rupert Giles. I've come for my books."

"Oh no, not the books!" the voice over the radio replied in a mocking tone and then chuckled. Faith frowned; it sounded so familiar.

"Yes, I'm sure you're very attached, Xander. Please, open the gate."

Faith smiled. It would be good to see the old Scooby, for her part. She'd missed him when she thought he was dead, surprising though that fact had been to her at the time.

"Sure thing, Watcher-man," Xander said. A buzzer sounded, and the gate slowly rolled back. Giles drove slowly forward, and the gate closed quickly behind them. They didn't speak, and nobody came out to meet them, as they gathered their things from the backseat and trunk, and Giles led the way to a small, fortified door at the side. He pressed a series of buttons, and it opened.

From the inside, you wouldn't necessarily be able to tell that the outside was so heavily fortified. It looked like any other normal apartment in the world. At least, one before the recent semi-apocalypses.

"Giles! Good to see you- what is she doing here?" Xander asked, coming down the hallway and stopping cold when he spotted Faith.

"Nice to see you, Xand," she called over, waving.

"Not nice to see you. Last time I saw you, I ended up dead. Ish. Look, that's not the point. Giles, nobody's supposed to know I'm alive, and you know that!"

Faith raised an eyebrow at Giles. He ignored her.

"And nobody will. Faith already kept your secret from Willow and Kennedy."

"Yeah. I'm not nearly as much trouble as I used to be. Chill out. Learn to unwind a little. I can help you with that if you need," she winked and wriggled her hips lasciviously. His obvious discomfort was all the reward she needed.

"Chill out? No, there is no 'chill out.' Giles, I promised Buffy that no matter what happens, I'll take care of Dawn. It's a lot harder to do that when people realize we're still alive."

"Brat's here, huh?" Faith nodded. "Been wondering where she went to. You know, Donovan's looking real hard for her."

"Exactly why this was supposed to be kept between us," Xander said, glaring at Giles.

"Faith is the Slayer now. If you can't trust her-"

"Faith is _a _Slayer, Giles. A. You know. One of many. Not _The_."

"Yeah, and all the others are dead, dying, or insane. You want to play this game, pipsqueak? I can take you any day of the week, blindfolded and injured. So how about you show some respect?"

Giles held up a hand, and Faith shut her mouth. "Regardless of the animosity you two share, you fight on the same side. There are few enough as it is; we can't afford division."

"Doesn't mean I want a psycho around."

"Doesn't mean I want to be around such an uptight little shit," Faith snapped. "Looks like neither of us are getting what we want today. So why don't you just chill the hell out, get Giles his books, and let us get back on the road."

"Fine." Xander left the room, and Giles gave Faith a look.

"You should try to be a little more diplomatic," he said.

"It's a little hard when you're getting slammed for shit you haven't done in, oh, I don't know, a decade? At least?"

"Regardless. This will only work if both of you make an attempt."

"I don't see you grumbling at him."

"Faith, how old are you?"

"Thirty-two, why?"

"You're acting like a petulant child. I suggest you stop it."

Faith opened her mouth to retort, but Dawn wandered into the room. "Giles!" she shouted, scurrying over and giving him a hug. "Faith." She glared across the room at the Slayer.

"Has nobody gotten the memo that I'm still one of the good guys?" she asked the ceiling.

"You shouldn't be here," Dawn said.

"Yeah, I'm kinda getting that feeling."

"Dawn, she's on our side. You can at least be polite," Giles said.

"Why? She got my sister killed."

Faith couldn't stop herself from gasping. She felt winded, as though someone had kicked her square in the chest and knocked all the air out of her lungs.

"Dawn," Giles' tone had a strong note of warning in it. Faith didn't wait around to hear what else he said to the girl. She turned and walked out of the building. Soon Xander would bring Giles his books, and then the two of them could get out of there. She kept repeating that idea to herself, pacing outside in the weak sunlight, trying not to think about what Dawn had said, or the fact that she couldn't entirely deny it. It _had _been her plan that they'd followed.

"Are you alright?" Giles asked, coming out the door as well.

"How would you feel?"

"If Dawn is right? Terrible."

"So why are you asking?"

"I don't want to make assumptions. But you never told me what happened when Buffy died."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Then you do feel responsible?"

"It was my plan. It was _my_ fucking plan! Of course I feel responsible. God, Giles, don't they get it? I don't want to be _the Slayer. _That was B's gig; it should still be B's gig. But they all act like it was something I planned to have happen."

"What did you plan for?"

"To rescue Dawn. One of Donovan's henchmen had her hostage. Buffy was just freaking out; I'm pretty sure she was having trouble making sentences, let alone making a plan. I had an idea. We voted on it – they act like it's my fault, but they _voted _for it. Willow, Xander, Riley, Kennedy, all of them, voted for my plan. Even Buffy said she'd go along with it. We ringed the building that Dawn was being kept in; stormed the place. It was absolute chaos. Riley and Xander rigged the building to explode; it was supposed to go after we left, but things came up, we took too long, the building exploded with some of our team still inside."

Faith's voice was hollow as she spoke. In her mind, a crystal-clear projection of the chaos was playing in slow motion, just like it had seemed to in real time. She saw Xander and Riley run into the building, shouting something about an explosion; saw Buffy shove Dawn toward Xander, who lifted her to an exit out of a window, watched Buffy go hand to hand with a demon who was lurking up in front of the two guys, ready to strike off their heads; saw Riley dragging Kennedy's bloodied and beaten body out of the building as quickly as he could. Faith had turned and run, not looking back, trying to escape to live another day. Never mind that that had been part of the plan, and part of the plan only because Buffy made it part of the plan. She had maintained that, no matter what, the last of the traditional Slayer line couldn't afford to die until the mysterious ailments plaguing the new ones were solved. They couldn't risk the last defense against the demons being an army of sick, crazy girls.

"She was so _stupid_," Faith said, shaking her head. "So god-damn _noble, _and where did it get her? Where did it get any of us? The world is falling apart, Giles. It's falling down and in on itself, just like Sunnydale did when we though we beat the First the first time around!"

Giles stared down at his folded hands, or maybe at the cracks in the pavement beneath his feet.

"I'd give _anything _to give this fight back to Buffy; to never have had to take over. And they all act like I'm somehow _glad _that it's come to this? That I'm the last defense when I used to be the enemy? Come on, Giles, does that seem _right _to you? Sure, it makes it easier for them if they can blame me. They don't have to take responsibility for it, at all. But they voted for the same plan. They agreed with Buffy, until it was all over and they discovered what an absolute _bitch_ hindsight can be. Now excuse me. I think I'd rather wait in the car." She turned and began to walk away, but stopped short when she saw Donovan and three large demons lurking behind him. They had heads like mutated boars, sitting atop rotund, vaguely feline bodies. Except for walking upright and the crab-like pincers that they had instead of hands, that is.

"Hello, Faith, love; it's been far too long, don't you agree?" he asked, smiling broadly. "I thought about just sending my Shaska demons here for a visit, but then I realized just how long it has been since I last saw you. You're looking rather the worse for wear, dear. Remember what Aunt Amelia always used to say? You must make certain to get enough rest and eat regular meals."

"Go away, Donovan."

"Oh, come now! That's no way to treat an old friend."

"You sure? Because that's the reception I've been getting lately."

"Such rude old friends you have." Donovan tsked. "Unfortunately, I don't have time to stick around and give lessons in decorum. I'll just leave it to the Shaskas to do that for me. And then, once they've softened you up, we can talk about where you're hiding some things of mine."

"I don't have anything of yours."

"Oh, to the contrary, Faith. I know you know where the Witch, the Key, and the Vampire with a Soul are. I will find them, whether you help me or not. It will just be so much more delicious if you hand them over directly." He added something in a harsh, guttural language, and the Shaksa demons went on point, lowering their heads and preparing to charge.

"Giles, get inside," Faith muttered. "Make sure nobody comes in or out until I give the word."

He didn't move.

"Giles, do it!"

The first of the Shaksa demons charged, its tusks lowered to just the right height to gouge Faith in the abdomen. She turned out of the way, shoved Giles through the open door back into the warehouse, and picked up an iron bar laying in front of it. A second Shaksa was right behind the first, hardly giving her any room to swing, but she managed to connect solidly with its head and send it staggering off to the left. The third succeeded in scratching her left side and pinning her in place against the exterior of the building.

She brought her knee up in a solid kick, which imbalanced the creature and dislodged its tusks from the sand blocks behind her. It toppled her to the side, but being between its tusks meant that she went down as well.

The cut to her side was sliced deeper as she landed atop one of the tusks' razor edges. She kicked the creature out from under her and got to her feet, just in time for another to slam a rock against her skull. She went sprawling, the iron rod knocked out of her grip. She could see it laying just out of reach, and scrambled to get it before another demon stopped her. Getting a grip of the cool iron, she swung it around as she rolled, connecting solidly with the neck of a demon. It grunted in pain as the force broke its neck, and it went sprawling.

"Your minions are a little fragile," Faith growled at Donovan.

"They're expendable. I wanted to see your capabilities; see if you'd improved or if you still make the mistakes you did when my aunt was training you."

"So what's the verdict?" Faith asked, dodging another charge and rolling to the left to avoid the dangerously piercing tusks of the Shaska.

"You still put too much weight on your left foot; still lean in the direction you're going to strike before making the strike, and still imbalance yourself for a trifling amount of extra strength when you make a strike. In short, I'm amazed you haven't died yet."

"Yeah, well, that's just your opinion." She was beginning to grow weary. She was losing a lot of blood from the wound on her left side, and her arm was still aching from her run in with the Gaki earlier. "I'm getting tired of this game. Why don't you have your boys there actually try?"

"You'd be dead by now if they did," Donovan answered, and yawned. "I want you alive yet."

"Why?"

He snapped his fingers, muttered something else in that guttural language, and the demons stopped, standing at attention.

"I want you to know what it feels like to have everything you care about ripped away from you."

"Uh, newsflash. That happened already. Years ago. I got over it."

"You never cared about any of us as much as you've cared about this rag-tag group of insurrectionists. My aunt, Lydia, your mother – even your sisters – none of them ever mattered as much to you as that failed excuse for a Watcher alone. Why else would you defend him so fiercely?"

"Because I'm the Slayer. It's my job to kill shit like you."

"You're not the Slayer. You may have been Chosen, but you're a sorry excuse for one. You'll never be the Slayer. Not until you learn the most important lesson, the one Amelia never got around to teaching you-"

"Bite me. You'd think you were trying to bore me to death. Well go to hell, Donovan. I'll see you at the finish line, and then we'll see who won this match. How about that, huh?"

Donovan cackled. "Struck a nerve there, didn't I? You know you're just playing at this. You don't have the drive, the commitment, or the brains to do this. You know that as well as I do. All your plans have resulted in fatalities to your friends, haven't they? So I ask you this: are you willing to sacrifice them all for a Pyrrhic victory?"

"For a what?"

Donovan rolled his eyes. "Right. Mustn't use big words. Little Faithie can't understand them. If you'd spent more time trying to improve yourself than playing the whore, you might have actually gotten somewhere. A Pyrrhic victory is a victory at any costs; where winning is worse than losing would have been. Are you prepared for that?"

"As long as I get to watch you die? Yeah, totally."

"So you still don't have the guts to kill me yourself."

"Don't read too much into my word choice. Not thinking enough might be my problem, but over thinking and overestimating your abilities were always yours."

"And yet I'm the one who isn't slowly bleeding to death. Good luck with that, Faith. See you at the finish line; assuming you make it there."

He muttered something else in the demonic language, and the Shaska resumed their attack position. Without waiting to see the conclusion to the battle, he took to the sky.

"Well if this just isn't fucking dandy," Faith muttered, trying to force the pain in her body aside and prepare for the onslaught. It wasn't good enough; the first charge from a Shaska and she was knocked off balance, one of the tusks boring into her lower belly, just below where Buffy had stabbed her over a decade prior. The old wound ripped open; it had never quite healed properly, and the blunt force trauma of the Shaska's charge was enough to undo all the healing it had done. She blacked out from the pain, but before she went under, she heard someone shouting very far away, and gunshots ripped through the air.

When she woke up, she was in a soft bed, with light sheets pulled up over her body. She could see her shirt and jeans piled up in a corner, but she was still wearing her bra and underwear. Her stomach was swathed in bandages, and throbbed with a dull pain. She smirked at that; count on Giles and Xander to still try to give her some modesty while trying to save her life. She felt extremely weak. Even turning her head to look around sapped her of energy and made spots dance across her vision.

"I thought I told you nobody comes in or out unless I give the word," she grumbled at Giles.

"I've never been one for taking orders. Didn't Buffy ever tell you about the Cruciamentum?"

"No?"

"Then we'll save that story for another day," he said quickly. "You're lucky to be alive, and luckier still that one of the people hiding out near Xander's compound was a doctor before the demons took the streets. Luckiest of all, she happened to owe him a favor."

"I think lucky is relative," Faith answered, and bit back a groan as speaking caused a bolt of pain to stab at her side. Even though she knew it was useless, she covered the area with her hand. "How long will this set us back by?"

"A week or so, given your enhanced healing abilities. That, of course, assumes that we don't run into anything else along the way. The scratches are already nearly gone, but the gouges you suffered are quite serious."

"Yeah, well, funny how that goes. Did the demons get killed?"

"The one whose neck you broke, yes. I'm afraid the other two got away, despite some excellent shooting by Xander."

"Injured at least?"

"One of them."

"They'll be back. Donovan was just using them to taunt me."

"I have no doubts about that. Do you want to continue telling me what happened with him?"

"Not now, Giles. I'm beat."

"Yes, you're absolutely right. You should rest. Are you warm enough?"

"I'm fine."

Giles pulled a comforter from a cabinet and spread it over her anyway. She smiled a little, then closed her eyes and went back to sleep, content that someone else could defend the fortress. If nothing else, the walls seemed pretty impenetrable.

… … …

Giles left the room, closing the door carefully behind him, and turned to look for Xander.

"How is she?" Xander asked. Giles tried not to sigh; he found the other man's anxiety over Faith's well-being a little disingenuous given the reception he had given her.

"She's very weak. We'll need to stay here for several days."

"Do I need to call Karen back? I can, if we have to."

"No; that shouldn't be necessary. She just needs to rest."

Xander nodded. "Good. Good. So what do we do in the meanwhile? Fortify in case the pointy ones return? Start packing for an evacuation? Run and hide under our beds like terrified children?"

Giles stared at him.

"All I'm saying is I'm kinda feeling the terrified children thing."

"Everything will be fine. We'll find a way out of this apocalypse, just like we have all the others."

"Yeah, see, I get the optimism. Or I would if Buffy were in charge. Giles, Faith doesn't exactly have a track record of getting anyone through things alive but herself-"

"Xander, be quiet."

"Okay, shutting up now. ...Hey! Are you going to be leader guy now? You're the Watcher, you can give her orders, right?"

"Yes, because that's worked out so very well over the years," Giles grumbled, taking off his glasses to clean them. "I need information."

"Not sure I'm the guy to go to for that. Research guy, I can maybe pull off. But information guy?"

"I need to know how Buffy died. Exactly what happened."

Xander was finally struck dumb. Giles watched as various emotions played out across the younger man's face. Shock finally won out.

"I thought you didn't want to know about that? 'Don't ever tell me how she died; don't even mention her name if you can help it', remember?"

"I remember. I still don't want to hear it, but it is imperative that I understand what is causing all this tension. A few years ago, you all fought on the same side; now it's as if Faith had never changed at all."

"Are you so sure she has?"

Giles raised an eyebrow and put his glasses back on. "I can't be sure without all the information, can I?"

Xander sighed and gestured for Giles to follow him. Together they wandered into a side room. "Dawn can't know about any of this," he said by way of explanation when he locked the door. "She'd blame herself, when there's nothing that she or anyone else could change about it."

Giles nodded and took a seat.

"In all fairness to Faith, Buffy agreed to the plan," Xander began.

"_That creep has Dawn. We can't let him do whatever he's planning to do to her," Buffy said, going straight for the weapons chest and pulling out the biggest, baddest weapons she owned._

"_B, I know this guy-" Faith began._

"_Don't try to talk me out of it. Either get behind me or get out of my way."_

"_All I'm saying is, we need a plan. He's smart, really smart. Probably smarter than Giles."_

"_He's not smarter than all of us combined. He's not more powerful, either. We can take this guy, Faith."_

"_We can. We just gotta do it smart. I have an idea."_

_Buffy crossed her arms over her chest. "Then start talking, because every second we waste here is one more second that bastard can hurt my little sister."_

"_Dawn's a smart kid; she'll be okay for the fifteen minutes it takes to plan her rescue right," Riley said, unexpectedly jumping to Faith's defense. Both Slayers glared at him. "I'm just saying."_

"_She's twelve years old, Riley," Buffy snapped._

"_And she's been watching you be the Slayer since she was two. She knows how to handle herself. You should give her a chance to grow up a little."_

"_She's still just a kid."_

"_Alright, this isn't getting anywhere; can we hear what the plan is?" Kennedy demanded. "The longer we wait, the more Buffy's panicking gets justified, and I think we can all agree we'd rather avoid that."_

_Before Buffy could snap back, Faith cut her off. "We need to get in and get out, and we need to keep Donovan from following us." She looked at Riley and Xander. "You two think you can bring down the building?"_

"_Hold on a second. What?" Xander asked. "How does that get Dawn anything other than pancakey?"_

"_It keeps Donovan from following us. We'll have to be fast about this. We surround the building. Red uses magic to make a distraction. Demonic bodyguards go investigate, B, Kennedy, and I go in, get the kid, and get out. Once everyone's away, we blow the building sky-high and retreat as fast as we can. It's not a perfect plan, but it can work."_

_Everyone looked vaguely uneasy. Still, Kennedy raised her hand and said, "I like it better than Buffy's 'Storm the Fortress' plan. I'll go along."_

"_I know a place we can get the explosives we'll need," Riley said. "Come on, Xander."_

"_I'm not doing this until Buffy signs off on it," Xander insisted. "She's always gotten us through alive. I'll trust her."_

_Buffy looked at Kennedy, then Riley, then to Faith herself. "On one condition," she said after a moment._

"_I give you my first born child?" Faith joked._

"_No. No matter what happens, you get the hell out of there alive."_

"_Kind of an odd condition," Faith said, folding her arms across her chest. Something about the way Buffy had said it made her visibly uncomfortable. "We always try to get out alive."_

"_No trying. Something is destroying the Slayer line. So far, only you and I have been immune to it. The line ends with you, Faith. The second time I died, no third Slayer got called. It's on you. We can't run the risk that we'll both die, and there won't be someone to defend the world."_

"_But we activated all the Potentials-" Willow began._

"_It's not good enough, Will. You've seen the crazy and the seriously disgusting sickness some of those girls are getting. Nothing we've tried to do – you, doctors, Giles and the few other Watchers who are still around, nobody – has been able to fix those girls. It's only the Actives, and it's all of them. Remember the three year old?"_

_Almost everyone in the room either shuddered or flinched. _

"_That shouldn't be happening. Getting Chosen didn't land Faith or I in the hospital with our kidneys rotting or whatever happened to that little girl. It didn't make us lose our ever-living minds – well, _I_ didn't – like Annabelle did."_

"_So, what, are you saying I failed?" Willow asked quietly._

"_That's not what she's saying at all," Kennedy snapped. "If anybody failed, she did, for not thinking her plan through."_

"_Hey!" Riley shouted. "She had no way of knowing what was going to happen any better than the rest of us did. It's an unforeseen consequence. A serious one, sure, but one we can overcome. We just can't devolve into backbiting and bitchery, so knock it off."_

_And then everyone was off, shouting at everyone else. _

"_You sure about your request, B?" Faith asked quietly, going to stand by the other Slayer and watch their friends argue and shout._

"_My sister isn't worth the world. It sounds terrible to say, but..."_

"_'But one life can't be allowed to take precedence over millions', I know."_

"_Didn't know you knew words that big."_

"_It was just something my first Watcher used to say."_

"_Smart woman." Buffy sighed. "So no matter what, you bail. There's nobody among the Actives who could take our places. Even if they wanted to."_

"_So why aren't you making it a condition that we both get out alive?"_

"_Because I don't have the responsibility of being the last. I was talking with the messenger Giles sent. The new Council thinks that this was what the First wanted. Lose the battle, win the war. We won in Sunnydale, that's obvious. But if all the Slayers except us two are crazy or too sick to fight? Who saves the world next time? We have to put the Slayer line back together. Un-Choose all these girls. It's the only chance we have."_

"_Heavy stuff. How'd they figure it out?"_

"_I don't know. Apparently Giles found some prophecy or something. I didn't look into it."_

"_Hey, when are you going to talk to him again? You obviously miss each other."_

"_I'll speak to him when I feel like it," Buffy said. "He violated my trust."_

"_Haven't we all? If you didn't speak to every person who'd ever done that, you sure as hell wouldn't be talking to me. So what's it really about?"_

"_Back off, Faith." _

_The general hubbub was dying down anyway, and Faith clearly didn't feel like getting shut down in front of such a large and hostile audience. _

"_We do this tonight," Buffy said simply. "I want everyone here and ready at six thirty on the dot. You got it?"_

_Everyone nodded. "Yes, Ma'am!" Riley said, rolling his eyes. "Buffy, we're your friends. You don't have to order us around all the time."_

_Buffy shrugged and left the room. _

"_Excuse me," Xander said quickly, and followed after her. "Buff! Hey, Buffster, come on. What's wrong?" he asked, catching up to her in the kitchen._

"_I'm worried about my sister."_

"_Yeah, see I get that. But I also know that's not all of it."_

_Buffy frowned at him. "Does it ever hurt?"_

"_What?"_

"_Your eye. Does it hurt?"_

"_Nah, mostly it's just a little odd getting strange looks from people in the market, and little kids asking to ride on my pirate ship. Don't change the subject."_

"_I'm sorry. I seem to have made a lot of bad decisions these last few years. Your eye, the Actives, Giles... I don't have a plan, I don't know what I'm doing. Maybe it's best to let Faith lead."_

"_You can't be seriously saying this. Buffy, even in over your head and with no clue what the hell is happening, I'd still trust you with my life any day of the week, long before I'd even think about trusting Faith with it."_

"_Nice to know I can still win a popularity competition against a reformed murderer," Buffy grumbled. "My sister got kidnapped right out from under my nose. We had warning. We knew what was coming. But we didn't listen because we didn't trust the source and we thought we could do better. Now some freak from Faith's past has her captive and is planning to do God only knows what with her."_

"_Yeah, but when has Drusilla ever been a reliable source of information, even when she's talking to Spike? It's not your fault."_

_"That's the problem, Xander. It is my fault. I should have known better. Spike and Angel both said that Drusilla wasn't doing any of her usual tells. Hell, they both said that she pretty much doesn't have tells; she's incapable of lying."_

_"We had every reason to think it was a trap."_

_"So what? I should have kept a better eye on Dawn."_

_"The kid's headstrong. Not unlike you, for that matter. It's not your fault that you can't keep tabs on her all the time. Hell, if she weren't headstrong, I'd have to wonder if those monks had paid any attention to you at all. You'll get her back. Faith's plan isn't bad. A little messy, yeah. Will it get us killed? I sure as hell hope not. But we'll get Dawn back."_

_"How can you be so sure?"_

_"Because you're the one going in to do it. You've given everything for Dawn. You died to save her. She's in the safest hands I can think of."_

_Buffy shrugged. "I'm not so sure about that, but thanks for the vote of confidence."_

_Xander hugged her and kissed her on the forehead. "Any time."_

_"Will you promise me something?"_

_"Sure. What do you need?"_

_"Swear to me, that no matter what happens, if something goes wrong you will take Dawn and get her far away from all of this. Protect her."_

_"Shouldn't you be asking someone with superpowers to do that? Willow maybe?"_

_Buffy shook her head. "Willow has to worry about Kennedy and trying to slow the decay of the other Potentials she activated_._ She's so burdened with feeling guilty over that. And Faith... I trust Faith to do the right thing, but not at all the costs it might take. She can't be distracted by having to take care of my little sister. She needs to fight the good fight. If anything happens to me, Xander, you're the only one. Besides, Dawny trusts you."_

_Xander nodded. "I'll do what I have to do."_

_"Thank you." Buffy hugged him back and turned to head out the door. "I think we'd both better get ready for tonight. Riley's probably waiting for you."_

_Xander nodded and left the room. Getting the explosives was the easy part. Transporting them and being able to rig them around the warehouse without attracting notice was the hard part. Massive demons patrolled the perimeter. Riley grinned and pulled on a kevlar bodysuit. _

_"Move out; it's time to party," he said._

_"Are all of my friends insane?" Xander asked the air. "Demon hunters, Slayers, Witches... My god."_

_"It makes life interesting, doesn't it, Xander?" Riley asked. "At least this way you know what you're getting."_

_"No, you don't. This way you know you stand a very good chance of dying in any given moment."_

_"Exactly. It makes you live for the moment, rather than worrying about what's coming up in the future. I recommend this life to anyone who's feeling stifled or bored at work."_

_"You're crazy, it's official," Xander muttered, pulling on his own kevlar. He didn't like the idea that they'd be going in and doing this; he liked the idea that they had exactly fifteen minutes to do it and get it right, while demons patrolled looking for anyone intruding on their master's doman, and while the Slayers and Willow were invading the building on a highly sensitive rescue mission even less. "This is so suicidal," he muttered under his breath as he picked up his stack of explosives and he and Riley set off down the hill, waiting for the signal that Willow had begun the diversion._

_As soon as he was in place, an explosion went off. The demons surrounding the building took off running, slithering, flying, and generally moving in the direction of the explosion, all on high alert and looking for blood. Xander shook his head, praying that Willow could keep them all at bay._

_Setting the charges one by one, sweat beaded up on his forehead and neck, dripping into his eyes. He didn't dare to even spare a second to wipe it away, lest he take too long and still be setting charges when Riley set the fuse to blow. The timers were ticking. _

_He could hear Faith, Buffy, and Kennedy breaking through a window and dropping into the warehouse; their footsteps echoed up to where he was sitting. There were sounds of struggle; dull thuds as punches landed against flesh, gasps of pain, grunts of exertion. It was all very strange to hear. Finally the sounds of struggle subsided, and he heard Buffy's voice issuing instructions to the others. _

_A few tense minutes later, he heard Dawn's voice. She was crying. Buffy muttered a few words to her. Xander smiled; he couldn't hear them, but he knew that whatever she was saying, it was true and it would console the younger Summers girl. _

_He spared a moment to look over his shoulder, and his heart nearly stopped dead in his chest and killed him as he saw a contingent of backup demons heading rapidly toward the compound. Dropping the last explosive hurriedly into place, he ran toward where Riley was setting his final one._

_"Bogies coming up," he hissed. "We have to get the girls out of there!"_

_Riley peered around the edge of the building, and blanched when he saw the oncoming demons as well. "Copy that, let's go."_

_Together they ran back to the front of the building, keeping under as much cover as they possibly could. Everything sounded like it was going basically well inside the warehouse; maybe they could still pull this off._

_Finding an open window, he and Riley dropped inside._

_"We got trouble!" Riley shouted. Buffy spun around to see him. She was holding a badly bruised and beaten Dawn in her arms, trying to soothe the girl while Kennedy and Faith perused the corners and storage units, looking for any sign of what Donovan had been planning to do with her._

_"What kind of trouble?" Faith demanded. _

_"Demons. A whole troop of 'em. Probably fifteen, twenty at the least. It was hard to see in the dark. We've got five minutes before this place explodes."_

_Buffy nodded to the other girls and they dropped what they were doing, getting to their feet just as Donovan and a small contingent of his demons came inside._

_"Go with Xander," Buffy whispered in Dawn's ear, shoving the girl gently in his direction. He was behind a pillar, under the cover of shadow. There was no way Donovan would see him. Dawn scurried under the shadows while Buffy stood and shouted at Donovan._

_"So, nice place you got here. Could really do with a little re-decorating," she said._

_"Ah, you must be the Slayer, Buffy Summers."_

_"Hey guys, I'm famous. Get a load of that. Who knew?" she said, shrugging at Faith and Kennedy._

_"Infamous, more like," Donovan responded. "So what brings you to my humble abode?"_

_"You took my sister."_

_"Ahh, yes. The Key."_

_"She's not the Key anymore. She doesn't open anything; her blood's useless to you. She's just a normal girl now."_

_"Now, that's where you're wrong. You see, my alchemists turned up a most fascinating ancient manuscript detailing how to use an individual with mystical powers as a sort of battery. I would have tried it with my dearest Faith, there, except she's quite the wriggly fish. It's very hard to catch her unless you bed down with her, and I wouldn't sully myself just for a little power. Not that way, at least. You would be ideal as well, except, as is rather obvious, you can clearly take very good care of yourself. But a young girl, untrained and without supernatural enhancements to her innate power - one whose blood can open the gateways between this world and numerous hell dimensions when the universe is aligned just so... Well, it's quite the irresistible challenge, you have to admit."_

_"You're one sick fuck," Faith said. "I can't believe nobody strangled you at birth."_

_"The question you should be asking, Faith darling, is how is it that nobody's done exactly the same to you? We both know your mother never really wanted you. You never contributed much to the family. Your own sisters abandoned you. One of them is even working with me."_

_"You lie."_

_"Do I? Can you prove that? How do you know poor, hopeless Hope or young, naive little Gracie aren't living in my mansion? It would be such an improvement over the squalid existence that you offered them. Running away is never a solution, Faith. It just dooms a young girl to prostitution. Hope is lucky that I found her, and helped her train her innate abilities. Sure, in the end I required her to sacrifice them as payment, but I assure you, she was quite content with me. She never even asked about you. Not once. I even asked her, a few months before I killed her, if she had sisters. She named dear little Gracie, but you went unmentioned-"_

_"Don't listen to him," Buffy growled. Xander could hear it from his safe hiding space._

_"You're a liar," Faith said simply. "And you wonder why I never deigned to help you with your crazy plots. You're just a megalomaniacal idiot. You always talk about Amelia, and what she taught. Didn't you ever listen to her?"_

_"My aunt was naive. She didn't realize that the extreme power to be had on the dark side is strong enough to give one man the world. She didn't realize that it can be used for good as well as ill. Evil just happens to be more fun, unfortunately for you."_

_"Go to hell," Faith growled. _

_Donovan shrugged. "As you wish, but I believe it will be you and your two Slayer friends who end up there." He waved a hand and the demons poured into the building. Xander leaned down and whispered in Dawn's ear._

_"Things are going to get really messy here; we've laid charges so the building will explode. Willow's making a distraction on a hill about half a mile from here. Go there, if you can, but don't let anyone know you're there. I'll meet you at the base of the hill. Since she's making distractions from the top of it, the whole thing will be guarded, you got it? Buffy and I have a plan; I'm going to take you somewhere far away. We're going to pretend to be dead, and hide out."_

_"But-"_

_"Don't argue with us. Buffy knows where we're going to go. She'll come to find us afterward. I promise."_

_"But how do I get out?"_

_Xander reached down and picked her up, helping her to crawl out through a window. "Run, now. Get as far from the building as you can."_

_Dawn nodded and turned to run. Xander turned to dive into the fray._

_The fighting was short and brutal. The demons were extremely well trained; and the fact that they were naturally covered in scale like knife blades certainly wasn't hurting them either. He was bleeding and injured within moments, doing his damnedest to make it to the door before the building exploded with all of them in it._

_Buffy and Faith were doing the same. Kennedy, the perpetual live for the fight type, wasn't even bothering to do more than kill monsters. He shouted her name and jerked his head to the door. She sighed but nodded, and seemed to agree that it was time to go, as she delivered a solid round kick to the demon she was fighting's head. _

_Another demon came up behind Kennedy, knocking her to the ground as her kick connected. Blood poured out of a wound on her forehead. Riley looked at Xander and made to run and collect her, but the largest of the demons Donovan had brought with him loomed up in front of them._

_They both ducked off to the sides, just as Buffy landed on its back, breaking its neck in one smooth motion as she dropped to the floor. Riley rushed over to get Kennedy, dragging her for the door as fast as he could. She looked terrible._

_"The building's going to blow, Buffy," Xander said._

_"Get out of here. Go!" she shouted at him, shoving him toward the window he had forced Dawn out of. _

_He dallied, unable to just leave. He turned back to survey the carnage briefly, trying to find some way he could stay and help his friends, and saw Faith turn, run from the scene and climb out of the other window. Riley had gotten cornered in the doorway by a pair of demons, but was working his way to get her tucked under some boxes. _

_In a corner of Xander's mind, he was counting down. There were only a few seconds left; Buffy was locked in hand-to-hand with a demon, Dawn was out on her own and nobody but he and Buffy knew where she was heading..._

_"Xander, get out!" Buffy shrieked at him. He didn't wait around to be a distraction to her a second time. He turned and climbed out of the window as fast as his aching body could pull him._

_About three yards away from the building's blast radius, he heard the first charge explode._

_"Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god," he muttered to himself as he hurried across the hills in the dark, crouching low and moving from cover to cover. There was no way he could believe that Buffy, Riley, or Kennedy had survived. As far as he knew, only he, Dawn, and Faith had escaped. _

_Dawn was waiting for him at the base of the hill, just as he had expected. She was huddled into a little ball, both for warmth and comfort._

_"Hey there, Dawny," he said, trying to force some cheer into his voice._

_"Don't talk to me," she said, tears choking her voice. "You knew what was going to happen. You let this happen."_

_"I couldn't stop it," he said simply. "You know your sister. When she gets it in her head to save someone's life at all costs, she means all costs."_

_"We can't bring her back again."_

_"No, you're right. We can't."_

_"She's really gone."_

_"She is."_

_"And the others?"_

_"Faith escaped. I don't know about Riley or Kennedy. Kennedy got pretty hurt. Riley was trying to help her when I climbed out."_

_"How could you leave her?"_

_"Because she told me to, and because I promised her I would take care of you."_

_"I don't need someone to take care of me! I need my sister!"_

_Xander nodded. "Dawn, we all need your sister." He reached out to touch her, but she flinched away from him. He sighed, then sat down beside her and gave her a big hug. "You gotta trust Willow to be able to find them and heal them before they die. Buffy knows where I'm taking you. She told me where to take you. I don't want to break what could be my last promise to her."_

_"She might come back to kick your ass if you do," Dawn said hopefully. Xander laughed._

_"True. Then again she might not. Come on." He helped Dawn to her feet, but it was clear that one of her ankles was twisted by the way she limped along. Without a word, he scooped her up and carried her off._

_... ... ..._

"I see," Giles muttered, cleaning his glasses again. They weren't spotty, he just needed to blur the world for a moment while he considered.

"Willow went back when nobody got there fast enough. She found Riley and Kennedy; his quick thinking saved both of their lives. Buffy went down fighting, as best we can tell."

"Every time, Buffy went down fighting."

"Yeah, and this time it worked!" Xander snapped. "It was Faith's plan. We all signed off on it, even Buffy, but it failed. And it failed needlessly."

"I understand why Dawn would blame Faith for her sister's death; why do you?"

Xander sighed. He opened his mouth to speak, then sighed again. "Because it's easier," he admitted after a moment. "It's easier to blame her - she and Buffy tried to kill each other more than once, it's easier to think that she planned for it to happen that way, somehow - than it is to just admit it was a terrible accident and that the charges I set to bring that building down killed my best friend."

Giles nodded. "It's only human to want a cause to blame."

"Yeah, and now I feel like a jackass," Xander said. "How did you get so good at that?"

"Me? What did I do?"

"Giles. Your very presence forces people to have to be reasonable. It's why Buffy couldn't bring herself to talk to you those last few years. She was running on emotions and gut logic, not thoughts. She missed you, I know that, but she had little enough faith in herself toward the end. She was afraid of second-guessing herself, and you kind of inspire that in people sometimes."

"Well at least you're honest enough to tell me what you think the problem was. Unfortunately, we shall never know for sure-"

"Giles, I do know for sure. She told me. More than once. 'I want to call Giles, he'd know what to do'. But then she'd pick up the phone, start to dial the number, and hang up. And any time I asked the answer was always the same. 'I'm afraid of what he'll think when he sees how much I'm messing this up."

"She didn't need to fear that, I thought she knew-"

"Knowing and feeling? Two different things. You know that."

Giles sighed. "You're right, of course I do. How foolish of me."

Xander shrugged. "It was non-stop. Once we activated those other Slayers... I mean, the first few months were great. Buffy finally was happy, she talked about having hopes and dreams for her future. And then Kennedy was the first to get sick. It was just Willow keeping her alive. Probably still is. And then Sorcha lost her mind, and then all of a sudden it started happening more and faster. We didn't have enough time to think, let alone breathe, and you were off working with the new fledgling Watchers, trying to get back all the stuff that got lost when the Bringers blew up the first Council. And then the next time any of us saw you, you'd adopted Faith and were helping her out. There wasn't enough time to think. And I think Buffy just figured that you were busy doing important things. She didn't want to interrupt that. None of us did. We respect you, Giles."

"Funny, it so rarely seemed like it," Giles said, looking down at his feet. He meant it to be a joke, and Xander nodded, seeming to get that.

"Hey, just because you're stuffy and repressed-"

"Is that what you're calling it now? I prefer to think of it is polite and cautious-"

"Or just British," Xander grinned. "We have more casual ways of doing things here. It doesn't mean the feeling isn't there."

Giles nodded. "Thank you, Xander. It's nice to hear that I'm appreciated for my stuffy, repressed, British ways."

Xander clapped him on the shoulder. "Just remember, Dawn can't know."

"You really think it's best to lie to her and let her continue to believe that Faith led her sister to her death, rather than that Buffy chose to go down fighting?"

"I think there's some nuance there that she's not going to want to see," Xander said. "She's hurting. She still talks about Buffy almost every day. Nothing we ever do can change the fact that her sister hasn't been here to see her grow up."

Giles nodded. "I understand. I don't believe it's a good thing to allow her to maintain this grudge against Faith, if only for the reason that we are all in grave danger and will need to rely on one another."

"Yeah, well, you can explain that. I don't think it'll work so well coming from me."

"Have you fed in to her detestation of Faith?"

"Maybe just a little. Hey! Don't give me that face. I had to deal with Buffy's death somehow; and yeah, I blamed Faith. It was her plan. What else was I going to say, 'Hey, Kid, I blew up the building that smushed your sister'?"

"You might have told her that Buffy was aware of what she was getting herself into."

"Yeah, well. It's a bit late now, don't you think?"

"It's always a bit late. That's why we're able to view it in hindsight. I think you should talk to Dawn. We need everyone to be able to work peacefully together. The time may come when Faith and Dawn have to protect one another. We can't have old grudges undermining our efforts to avert the apocalypse."

Xander nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Let me talk to her first. You can then explain to her the whole thing about how Faith's not evil now."

"Faith hasn't been evil in a very long time."

"No, she hasn't. But it's kind of hard to see that kind of nuance when you were held captive and tormented by her in her evil days," Xander pointed out. "And of all of us, Dawn's been through the worst of Faith's treatment. If only because she was a little kid and couldn't figure out why someone would want to hurt her or her sister like that."

Giles nodded. "I leave it to you, then."

Xander opened the door to see Dawn standing in front of it, her face tear-streaked and her entire posture hostile.

"I can't know? I can't know the truth of what happened to Buffy?" she demanded.

"So you heard," Xander said, sighing.

"Every fucking word. What the hell, Xander? Why didn't you tell me?"

"It just wasn't the right time."

"When would have been the right time?"

"I don't know!" Xander covered his face with his hands. "I just wanted to make your life as easy as possible. I promised Buffy I'd take care of you. I took that to mean that I should make sure you were happy, too. Is there something wrong with that?"

"Only that you lied to me!"

"Dawn, please try to calm down," Giles said.

"Why should I? Everyone's been lying to me! I have no way of knowing what's true anymore."

"That's not true," Xander said, reaching out to give her a hug. She slapped his hands away and took off down the hallway. "I'd better go after her, in case she does something stupid like leave the warehouse," he told Giles.

"Go, calm her down. I'm going to go start perusing the books. I feel as though there's something I'm missing that I need to be aware of."

Xander raised an eyebrow at him but didn't ask. He just took off running down the hallway. Giles sighed. So much chaos. He only hoped that they could find a workable solution to the divisions wracking their small coalition against the apocalyptic stupidity of Donovan Crane.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's notes: I'm back! Sorry for the impromptu, warning-less hiatus. My life is moderately insane, and I've been dealing with massive dramatic irony in my day-to-day life. On the bright side, it's given me time to come up with even more awesome ideas for this than I originally had, so on the whole I guess it works out okay. Kinda. Ish?

We're going to switch the focus from Faith herself a little bit in this chapter and the coming chapters, and look at the storyline from the points of view of other characters. Partly this is because the coming 'history' segments are things that Faith herself is somewhat ashamed to share with Giles in any sort of detail, but others who were there to witness some of this stuff are free of any such compunctions. Partly this is also because it's going to shed some (hopefully helpful) light on other characters' motivations in the overall plot. Or at least the motivations they've decided to make public, which may sometimes conflict with their true motivations. (I love me some complex characterization.)

From here on in, things are going to get a lot darker a lot faster, and the reliability of various narrators is going to be affected, particularly when looking at incidents that have occurred in the story's past. I've been trying to use snapshots of scenery and dialogue to show just how fucked up this future Buffyverse is, what with the complete and utter destruction of most of human society, demons out in daylight, and the decay of the Slayers that Willow called - all of this stuff will get explanations as we continue. For now, it's mostly enough to know that it just is how it is.

I am still considering which canon characters to do what with, in this story. I have a limited number of "get out of the grave free" cards - ideas from mythology and literature that can be tailored to fit the Buffyverse if necessary - so I'm taking votes to see who people would like to see as part of the main cast. So far we've got Faith, Xander, and Giles (and sort of Dawn). Willow is around, but I don't have major plans to use her as yet (although that will change if sudden inspiration strikes - and it probably will since she and Giles were my favorite characters until Faith showed up, and ever after my second favorites). I'm not making any promises to use your beloved characters (or that I won't re-kill them if I do), but feedback on that point would be appreciated.

Also, if you have any questions, feel free to go ahead and ask them in the comments or in PMs. Some things you're supposed to still be confused about (honestly, some things I'm still confused about - but I'm a seat-of-the-pants writer, or pantser in NaNoWriMo lingo, so I trust my brain to eventually wrap up all the loose ends), but some things you aren't. Hopefully I'm keeping the distinction clear, but feedback about your impressions, assumptions, confusions, etc., will really help me to figure out if I'm achieving the right balance here, so please comment with any thoughts. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy this chapter~!

* * *

...

Dawn crept quietly out of the warehouse fortress.

"Eight years. Eight years they've been fucking _lying_ to me," she growled under her breath, pacing in an alcove just outside the door.

She knew it wasn't safe to venture far, but the entire fence around the perimeter was electrified, the ground had been sanctified, and there were strategically placed crosses and motion-triggered floodlights all around the base. She knew that some of the guys were up in the turrets, manning crossbows and catapults. It had been a long time since it had been safe for fleshy mortals to be out alone and unarmed even in the daylight; to go out at night was something not even most suicidal individuals would dare to do.

But here in the alcove it was safe. The door was propped open, ready for her to escape safely across the perimeter if a vampire or demon did manage to show up, and at the same time it wasn't any place Xander, Giles, or anyone else was likely to look for her. They probably thought she was still holed up in her room crying like a child.

"As if it isn't bad enough that they lie to me, they treat me like a child, too," she fumed. "I'm nineteen years old! I'm older than Buffy was when she started slaying, older than Faith was when she was called, older than Willow was when she started with magic. Do they expect me to stay a child forever?"

She and Xander had been on their own for several years, drifting from city to city as he held down various odd construction jobs and made some extra money on the side repairing people's furniture. As the demonic forces had grown more daring, his business had thrived - not many people knew how to make, let alone repair, a decent crossbow anymore. The fact that he could make several in a day only assured their financial stability until the entire economic system broke down under the strain of the battle between good and evil. And then they'd gone into hiding here. Every safety detail was his, culled from the military memories of a Halloween long ago - or so he claimed. Dawn was pretty sure he was lying on that point, and that he was just too embarrassed to admit to reading lots of comics and watching too many war movies.

A sound off about thirty feet from the fence caught her attention. It sounded like a child crying. "Hello?" she called. "Is somebody there?"

"Help me," the voice answered. "I fell down and hurt my leg. Please."

Dawn shivered. It wasn't far. Nobody had even seen a demon around here recently, aside from the ones who had gored Faith earlier that afternoon. Near as Dawn could tell, those had actually done her a favor. Doctor Karen had been skeptical about Faith's chances, even when she learned that she was a Slayer. Still, everyone knew it was worth than folly to venture outside of the shelter at night, even in a large, heavily armed group.

"Let me get someone," she called back. "It's not safe. There could be demons."

"Please hurry," the child called back. "I'm really scared. It's cold and I can't see anything."

"Promise!" Dawn turned and ducked back inside, heading for one of the sleeping areas. She carefully tiptoed over the sleeping bags on the floor, looking for one familiar form.

"Dawn? What are you doing in here?" Marco asked as she bent down over him.

"Someone's stuck outside the perimeter. I think it's a kid. We have to help."

Marco frowned. "We should wait until morning," he said slowly.

"Please? For me?"

"What if those demons that nearly killed the Slayer are around? And you know Xander doesn't want you going outside."

"Who cares what Xander wants?" Dawn hissed.

"Whoa, sorry I asked."

"Be quiet!" someone growled from the other end of the room. "And get that girl out of here!" another added.

Marco nodded his head for Dawn to follow him and headed into the hall. After closing the door behind him, he ran a hand through his hair. "Okay, since you got me out here, show me where you heard this kid."

Dawn grinned and hugged him. She had known he would help if she could just get him out of the men's sleeping quarters. Ever since his family had made it here, he'd become a solid friend of hers. A former marine, he was one of the best sharpshooters the small colony had. It didn't hurt that he had beautiful green eyes and a warm, steady smile, either. Although she'd deny it to her grave if anyone asked, Dawn was hopelessly in love.

She led him to the side door, more a fire escape than a true entrance, and pointed.

"You left the door open?" Marco asked, stopping in his tracks.

"So? Not like anything could get past the fence without being noticed and the alarm being sounded," she said. "And it's not so far we couldn't close it."

"You were outside?"

"I needed to think. I'm tired of being cooped up in here."

"Like the rest of us aren't? Being bored doesn't give you an excuse to put all of us in danger." Though slow to anger, there were a few things guaranteed to get Marco furious. Anything that could potentially put the colony at risk was right at the top of the list.

"I forgot to close the door, okay? No big deal. Nothing got in."

"You don't know that."

"We can go and ask the guys in the crow's nest if they saw anything, or if the lights came on," Dawn said. "Will that make you feel better?"

"It might," Marco said, walking over to close the door. He kicked the rock propping it open out of the way, but instead of swinging shut, the door flung open. Before either of them could react, a man's hand closed around Marco's neck. His eyes bulged as he struggled for air and finally grew still.

Dawn was rooted to the spot, her heart thundering through her chest. She knew she should run, but her feet were leaden. The man in the doorway was backlit, so she couldn't see his face, but somewhere in her mind she recognized his deep laugh.

"Hello there, sweetheart," he said. "It was so nice of you to respond to my bait!" He chuckled and took a few steps inside, letting the steel door click shut behind him. The lights in the hallway came on automatically as it did, illuminating his face, and Dawn gasped.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"What, no hug? I'm hurt."

"Why should I hug someone who tortured me? Someone who got my sister killed?"

Donovan shook his head. "Because I'm the one who's going to make it all better. I apologize for all that unpleasantness when you were eleven; you see, I thought Faith actually cared about you and your sister, and I just couldn't resist the challenge. She's cared for so few people over the years, though she can sometimes put up an admirable show of pretending to. But you. You and Buffy, she went out of her way to keep out of my grasp. I could only come to one conclusion, so I laid my traps accordingly. I've never had a quarrel with Buffy. I rather respected her, actually. She handed her calling splendidly."

"Nobody can make it better. Buffy's dead, and nothing can ever change that. Your apologies don't make a damn bit of difference."

"I rather thought you might say that. Dawny, darling - I can call you Dawny, can't I? We're old friends after all - are you aware of what you are?"

Dawn responded only with a mutinous glare.

"Of course, how silly of me, that's how Buffy died the second time, isn't it? It's rather poetic in a tragic way; the first time was for her friends, the second time for her family, and the third time for her mortal enemy, although I'm sure she'd protest that it was for the world. But I digress. Dawny, you have the power to bend the worlds and bring her back. I could even show you how. It wouldn't even require your blood or your death, like the last time someone tried."

"Right. And what's the cost? My soul? The world? I saw what happened when Glory opened the portal, I don't see how tampering like this could be any different-"

"Yes, but that was to a hell dimension. Do you really think your sister has taken up an eternal residence in Hell? Of course not. Saving the world once all but guarantees you a one-way ticket to Heaven come Judgment, and she did it multiple times, at great cost to herself. At worst, she's in a limbo state."

"And the last time we ripped her out of Heaven she wanted to die and leave us all over again."

"She woke up in a coffin, sweetie. Who wouldn't get post-traumatic stress disorder from that? And as I recall, she got better."

"How do you know so much about this?"

"I've made it my business to know. Slayers are something of a family hobby. My father was a Watcher, as was my aunt. And my grandparents, great-grandparents, et cetera, et cetera, ad nauseum to the beginning of Watching as a hobby for the more bored among the esoterically-inclined nobility. In fact, Faith was my aunt's prodigy. Has she ever told you about Amelia? Or Lydia?"

"She's never told us anything."

"Pity. It would make all this so much simpler. You wouldn't have nearly so much suspicion of my motives if that were the case. All I want is the chance to give Faith the reward she so richly deserves."

"And that would be?"

"An eternity in Hell," Donovan said simply, in the tone normally reserved for telling someone the time. "I want to kill her. Her own past will seal the deal quite nicely. And if I can make amends with you and your charming sister on the way, I figure what's the harm?"

"There's a catch. There's always a catch," Dawn said, but her resolve was weakening. "You come in here, you offer me my sister and my life back, in exchange for what? Letting you kill Faith? What are you leaving out?"

Donovan smiled gently, and it occurred to her that he was quite handsome despite his clear lack of morals. "Well, you'd have to leave here with me, in order for me to teach you how to bridge the dimensions. Of course, you couldn't tell anyone here; there's no way they'd let you leave, certainly not with me. And you'd need to invite my agents in. If I'm to take you away and teach you, I can't kill Faith myself."

"You're going to send vampires to kill a vampire Slayer? Are you an idiot?"

Donovan laughed. "No, I'm going to send vampires to scout out where she's hiding and keep anyone else from interfering. I'm going to send demons to kill Faith."

"How do I know they won't kill anyone else?"

"You don't. That's the downside to making a devil's pact with someone like me."

Dawn hesitated, then shook her head. Anger at Xander still boiled furiously in her chest, but she couldn't consign him, or anyone else in the compound to death.

"No," she said, taking a step back. Donovan's smile faltered.

"You would throw away the chance to see your sister again - to hug her, and tell her all those things you never found time to say in life - for people who have lied to you, ignored you, and belittled you?" He shrugged. "I suppose, if that's what you want, then it's your choice to make. But you see, sweetheart, whether you choose to cooperate or not, things will proceed a certain way. So I strongly suggest you take the deal I'm offering."

"Or what?" Dawn asked.

"Turn around."

"Huh?"

"Turn. Around."

A serpentine demon with mottled green and purple skin stood on three legs behind her, gnawing on a human arm. Blood dripped from the shoulder stump onto the floor, and Dawn could tell from the ease with which it oozed that it was fresh. She swallowed against a growing urge to both scream and puke, stepping back several steps as its jelly-like red eyes focused on her and it leaned closer to get a better look.

"You see, Dawny, I took the liberty of sending some of my demons in while you left the door open. Any minute now the next round of guards will discover that the old ones are off for lunch. As it were."

Dawn spun around to face him. "Promise me Xander and Giles won't get hurt," she whispered.

"I'm afraid I can't do that. The Miksos demons, once they smell blood, tend to go on a terrifying rampage. It's too late to give them orders for who not to kill. You can thank me later for remembering to give them your image as not-prey later. It's much too late to add to the list. My vampires could block off the hallways where the others sleep... but only if you agree to our bargain."

Tears welled up in Dawn's eyes, and she shuddered. "Fine. I accept your deal. Just don't let anybody die."

"Besides Faith."

"Yes. Besides Faith." Dawn scrubbed at her face with the back of her hand. Donovan patted her gently on the head.

"Don't feel guilty, Dawny. Old Faith has left a long trail of bodies and broken lives behind her. She deserves this." He put an arm around her shoulders, and opened the side door. A team of fifteen vampires in hunting face were assembled there. "Now. Invite them in."

"Come in," Dawn whispered, her vision clouding over as the tears finally spilled. She could hear the vampires march into the small hallway and the door click shut behind them. She closed her eyes as one of them said, "Orders, sir?"

"Leave no one alive."

"No!" Dawn shrieked, thrashing to get out of his grip. The arm that held her was terrifyingly strong, and she couldn't escape. "Please no. Please don't," she sobbed.

He wiped the tears under her eyes away with a fingertip. The gesture was tender, almost loving, and his voice was gentle as he whispered, "They would only try to save her, and die fighting. This way they will go in peace, without ever knowing what has happened. It's better this way."

Dawn sobbed as he led her out the door. She could hear screams and sobs beginning to echo back down the halls, even over her own anguished tears, as the door slid shut and clicked into place far too placidly.

"Why are you doing this?"

Donovan sighed. "I'm going to tell you a story. A true story, about five women - Faith, and the four whose lives I saw her destroy: Lydia, Amelia, Hope, and Grace. It's a very long story, so I'm going to tell it in pieces - a little bit every day - and then when I'm done, you can tell me what you think about where you and Buffy fit into the story. How about that, Dawny?"

"Don't call me that!"

Donovan pointedly ignored her, and continued leading her down the road out of the compound. The floodlights kicked on, but there were no sirens, no shots. The night was silent and still as they walked slowly away. Eventually, he began to speak.

"Now, Dawny, this story takes place nearly twenty years ago, when I was still young and carefree, and Faith was only fifteen."

...

_"Did you hear that, Van?" Lydia whispered, pulling away as he leaned in to kiss her again.  
_

_"I didn't hear anything. Relax, love, it's just us." He turned her face back to his, and she leaned in this time as well. A few minutes later, she pulled away mid-kiss.  
_

_"There it is again. You can't possibly have missed it!"  
_

_"It's probably just my aunt's terrier digging around in the underbrush."  
_

_Donovan didn't mean to sound impatient, but they never managed to steal much time for themselves; Amelia knew of their mutual attraction and interest, and stopped at nothing to try to get in the way of its progress. Her efforts had reduced them to sneaking around in crypts while she trained her latest Potential.  
_

_Ever since Faith had shown up and she had seen what he saw - how thickly the threads of magic from the Choosing hung around her, threading and braiding themselves into her aura - Amelia had left Lydia's training mostly on the backburner. Yet Amelia still couldn't stand the thought of her dallying with Donovan, never mind how clear it was that Lydia would never be Chosen, not while Faith lived.  
_

_"It doesn't sound like Cricket."  
_

_"I've got the crossbow loaded and ready right here," Donovan whispered. "Nothing's going to get the jump on us. And even if it does, I'll protect you."  
_

_"It's not that kind of noise either." Lydia stood up and straightened her clothes out, pulling her blouse back into correct position and making sure she didn't look too rumpled. It wouldn't do any good; Amelia pretty much had a sixth sense for detecting what they had been up to. "It sounded like someone's in trouble. Give me the other crossbow."  
_

_Donovan tried not to sigh and handed it over.  
_

_"What is it, Van? You're not mad, are you?"  
_

_"I'm five by five," he answered with a tight grin. "I was just looking forward to spending some time together, love. But I guess it's all work, work, work tonight. Just like every night."  
_

_"I thought you'd learned by now, Pinky: we do the same thing every night," Lydia said, laughing. She headed out the door with him on her heels.  
_

_"Can't we go back to trying to take over the world? That would be so much more fun," he countered.  
_

_Lydia smiled sadly at him. "As long as there's a chance I could be Chosen, I have to fight. Even when there's no chance, I don't think I'll be able to just sit by and let those monsters kill people when I know their weaknesses."  
_

_"Sometimes I think you're too noble."  
_

_"Yeah, but that's why you love me, isn't it?"  
_

_"And why I look forward to you finally coming of age; thank God it's just another six months. When there's no longer any chance for you to be Chosen, we can run away together. Amelia would never let us go, not while she thinks we can still help train Faith, but we could sneak away and have fantastic adventures. I have cousins on the continent, on Mother's side - they live in a castle with a massive dungeon full of medieval weaponry - and we can hunt demons ourselves and learn exotic spells and see whatever's left of the seven wonders of the ancient world."  
_

_"Where even more evil things are lurking," Lydia laughed. "If you have your way, we'll be fighting monsters for the rest of our lives. Even on our honeymoon, which is supposed to be distinctly devoid of fighting."  
_

_"And we'll raise our kids to fight them, too," Donovan said proudly. "With a Potential Slayer as their mother and a Watcher for their father, they'd be unbeatable."  
_

_"Except that they'd still be mortal," Lydia countered in a small voice. "You know as well as I do how short this life usually is."  
_

_"It won't be. Not for us," he said, taking her hand.  
_

_"Hm," Lydia smiled at him, and kissed his cheek. "We'll see."  
_

_They scanned the horizon, looking for anything suspicious: rattling branches, footprints, fast movement. And then they heard Amelia scream in pain.  
_

_They shared a terrified look before they took off running.  
_

_Lydia reached the clearing shortly before he did and plunged into the fight. Several large vampires had gotten the upper hand over Amelia and Faith. Lydia aimed her crossbow at the one preparing to kill Faith. "Get Amelia," she hissed at Donovan as she fired a bolt.  
_

_Her shot missed the heart but caught the vampire in the shoulder, forcing him to drop Faith to rip the bolt out. Her body collapsed in a heap on the ground, and Donovan could see blood streaming from a wound on her head as he fired his own shot at the vampire who had just sunk his teeth into Amelia's neck. The bolt collided with the target, and the vampire vaporized into a neat pile of dust.  
_

_Amelia struggled to get to her feet while the other three vampires turned their attention to Lydia and Donovan. He attempted to fumble another crossbow bolt into position, as two of the three charged over to take them on. Lydia tossed her crossbow aside and pulled out a stake; it landed in the mud near Faith, who stirred slightly.  
_

_Donovan's fingers slipped as adrenaline flooded into his bloodstream, causing time to slow and everything to take on a weightier, more ponderous quality. Amelia was trying to crawl away, and the third vampire was playing a twisted cat and mouse game with her, catching her foot, then letting it go, then catching it again as she tried to reach her purse and the crucifix and holy water it contained within. The two other vampires were in full throttle, charging at him and Lydia. She stood calmly, in perfect form, watching and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Faith's eyes fluttered open and she reached for the crossbow and the bolt that Lydia had shot into the first vampire's shoulder, which he had pulled out and left on the ground before beginning his twisted game with Amelia.  
_

_Rather than it clicking into place, Donovan dropped a bolt. He dove out of the way, knowing that he wouldn't stand any chance unarmed. He came to his feet in time to see Faith take aim and fire at the second vampire, just as Lydia landed a solid blow to his heart and he began to vaporize away.  
_

_It was too late to take the shot back, to re-aim, re-fire. As Lydia spun to engage in a fight with the first vampire, the crossbow bolt zipped through the falling ashes and buried itself in her shoulder, knocking her off balance. Seizing the opportunity, the vampire grabbed her by the throat, and cleanly snapped her neck. The sound cracked through the night air, and Donovan felt his blood freeze as he watched his girlfriend's body collapse to the ground.  
_

_"No!" The word was ripped from his throat as he saw her fall into a motionless heap.  
_

_In the moment it had taken for her to be killed, Amelia had reached her purse. She rolled over, holding up a crucifix to the vampire looming over her, as her other hand fumbled for anything that could be useful as a weapon. A strange kind of disembodied focus overtook Donovan as he picked up his own crossbow, smoothly loaded it, and fired at the closer of the two remaining vampires. He then reloaded and destroyed the final one. All that remained to show that there had been a fight in the cemetery were four neat piles of ashes, a bleeding gash on Faith's forehead, and Lydia's body.  
_

_Donovan dropped the crossbow in his hand and knelt beside his girlfriend, unrolling her from the bizarrely contorted position she had fallen into. Her eyes were closed, peacefully, as though she were merely taking a brief nap and dreaming of the adventures and children they would never have. "Lydia?" he whispered, brushing her hair out of her face. Her cheek was still warm.  
_

_"Donovan," Amelia said quietly. "She's gone."  
_

_He refused to hear it. She had been so alive just a few moments before. If she hadn't heard the noises, hadn't been suspicious, had just believed it was Cricket rooting around outside the crypt... If he hadn't lured her away, hadn't tried to ignore her fears, hadn't let his imagination run wild inventing futures he should have known were impossible... Who knew how things could have ended differently? He shook his head, blocking out the reasonable voice of his aunt.  
_

_She couldn't be gone. There was still so much more left for them to do.  
_

_"Lydia, please. You can't go yet."  
_

_"Donovan," Faith whispered. Her voice was oddly choked and strangled, like she was fighting to hold in tears. "I didn't mean to..."  
_

_He closed his eyes. "Don't speak to me," he said. His voice sounded strange to his ears. Distant, gravelly, foreign. Maybe it was someone else speaking, reading the transcript from his thoughts. "Don't ever speak to me."  
_

_"Donovan," Amelia said, her voice gentle even though she spoke in a warning tone, "this was a horrific accident. You have always known what kind of life this is. There was nothing that anyone could have done differently."  
_

_"There were loads of things we could have done differently!" he shouted.  
_

_"We were outnumbered and overpowered. These were new vampires, of a stronger order than we've seen here before. I wouldn't have brought you three out here if I had known. Lydia did well; she saved many lives through her courage. Honor her memory. Let her be at peace."  
_

_"Your platitudes are bullshit," Donovan growled, getting to his feet. "You think people's lives are things you can play with! You and your Watcher's Council. Nobody died and made you gods; you don't have any right to meddle this way!"  
_

_"I know this is painful. I know you loved her-"  
_

_"Love! Not loved," he protested. There was nothing past tense about it. He wouldn't believe that Lydia was now past-tense.  
_

_Amelia sighed. "I know you... love her. But one life can't be allowed to take precedence over millions. It's part of what you have to learn as a Watcher. It's why I tried to keep you and Lydia apart." Her voice had dipped to a whisper, and now it cracked. Donovan looked up in surprise. For the first time he could remember in his life, his aunt was crying. And not just a few small tears trickling down; she was sobbing openly.  
_

_"What good could that ever do? To keep us alone?"  
_

_"It's not given to Watchers and Slayers to have the warm comforts of loved ones. We know what is out there. We are the only ones preventing the darkness from consuming all life. Loss is something we have to learn to accept, no matter how it pains us."  
_

_Donovan stormed off. For the first time ever, Amelia didn't summon him back._

_..._

"You see, Dawny? Our Faith had quite the career before she'd even been called."

Dawn sat in silence. She was still crying softly to herself for Xander and Giles.

"You're still angry with me, aren't you? You will be for some time, I accept that. Just as I was. But let me tell you, sweetheart, life doesn't do anything capriciously. There is a purpose for everything."

"So then what's the purpose for this?" Dawn snapped._  
_

"All in good time, Dawny girl. All in good time."


End file.
